The Science is Not Impossible
by Jeannette Hetfield
Summary: Roxanne finds out that her genius husband Megamind did a little bit more than just look into "the reset button".
1. Chapter 1

The Science is Not Impossible

By Jeannette Hetfield

Chapter 1: It's Mega-late

Where was that noise coming from? And what was the flashing light all about? Roxanne opened very sleepy eyes to discover that she was in bed alone. She rolled over onto her back, groaning softly. The digital clock on the nightstand displayed a blaring green time of 3:45am. It was too late for anyone to be working. Silvery light flashed across the ceiling along with the unmistakable sound of hammering, and then a power drill fired up followed by…a chainsaw? He was inventing again. In the middle of the night.

_Again_.

She rolled groggy eyes, but smiled. He was certainly the most persistent person she'd ever known. After all, he'd kidnapped her almost once a week every week for nearly two decades. It hadn't been a secret that the main reason for her repeated kidnappings was to lure Metro Man into his traps. Although, he did later admit that seeing her had been his second favorite part about the kidnappings. First was the witty banter between the evil genius and the muscle bound pretty boy.

She shook her head, marveling over the way everything had turned out. Their relationship had definitely not started through conventional means and maybe that was why the whole thing had worked out. It might not be normal, but it felt right.

For a few more minutes she laid there, wondering if he might stop, but the flashes continued dancing across the ceiling. So she threw back the covers and shivered when the shock of the cold night air hit her bare shoulders. Hurriedly, she shoved cold feet into her fuzzy pink slippers and then pulled a sweater over her too-thin tank top.

The distinct aroma of coffee hung in the air as her softly padded feet made the long trek across the concrete floor of the lair over to a supply cabinet full of shower caps. She pulled one out just as a brain bot hovered over to her holding welding goggles in one of its metal hands.

"Thank you," she said softly. Once the goggles were firmly in place over her eyes, she placed the shower cap over her hair.

Then the little floating cyborg nestled itself into her arms. It had formed a strange attachment to her, rather like a dog. Only it was cold metal instead of warm fur. She didn't mind though, rubbing its domed head, watching the energy ribbons following the path her fingers made. It was kind of sweet.

Weird, but sweet. At least it didn't constantly try to bite her the way the other brain bots did.

The high, red curtain was pulled only part of the way closed, which would explain how the light from within had filtered through into the bedroom. Megamind still hadn't noticed her presence because he was concentrating heavily on the welding. He also wore a shower cap, which he often did when experimenting or inventing. She hadn't figured out why exactly and wasn't about to ask because it would hurt his feelings.

Most of the time he was proud of the large baldness of his blue head, but every now and then he seemed sensitive to the remarks that the media still made in articles about Metro Man's perfect brown coif and graying temples. Sometimes he still made the occasional snippy remark about the flying hero's "stupid perfect hair" and insisted that not even the most powerful man in the universe could have such perfect tresses. And in fact, it was likely that he had probably been wearing a _toopee_ all along, which in turn meant that Megamind thought he had finally discovered Metro Man's weakness: male pattern baldness. Though there was absolutely no proof that Metro Man was bald it certainly had put a spring in Megamind's step for weeks.

Roxanne had never corrected Megamind's mispronunciation of toupee. Besides, it was funnier than the original word. She'd stopped correctly him a long time ago because human words still stumped him at times. Now she barely even noticed it. Recently, she'd even said _Metrocity_ live during one of her reports instead of Metro City. She'd grown so accustomed to hearing Megamind pronounce it wrong for years that it now sounded natural to her ears.

Over 1,000 viewer comments had popped up on the station's website within two minutes. The funny thing was that she hadn't even realized she'd said it that way until her new cameraman George casually mentioned it on the drive back to the station. At first she'd been mortified and Megamind's superior smirk when she came home didn't help one bit.

But it was worse when she read the comments posted in the forum. People were just plain mean. Apparently, not everyone had accepted Megamind as the defender of Metrocity. Just because he wasn't Metro Man didn't mean he was any less a person or a hero. She didn't think Megamind had read the comments, but to make sure, Roxanne had the tech department remove all of the abusive postings.

Now every time she reported the news, she pronounced the name of their city wrong with the sole purpose of irritating the complainers. She didn't care how mad they got. Megamind's pronunciations were preferable to her anyway. It uniquely endearing. Uniquely Megamind.

Even though he hadn't come to bed, he'd certainly dressed for it, donning his favorite evil science pajamas covered in various radiation and hazmat symbols. To complete the nocturnal ensemble, he still wore the cape and the little bat slippers. She bit her lower lip, trying not to laugh. Nerdy through and through. He was so cute.

She sat down on the empty stool next to him, still rubbing the brain bot's head. It hummed contentedly. Megamind finally noticed her then and turned off the welding torch.

"Ollo!" he said and then stood abruptly, half-running and half-walking to the cabinet she'd just taken the shower cap from.

"Hi. Kinda late to be working isn't it?" she called after him.

Megamind rushed back over with an armful of circuits and gears, subsequently dumping them on the workstation.

He pushed the goggles up onto his forehead, round green eyes widening slightly. "Is it? No, it's only—" He glanced at his projection watch. "3:45 am. It's early."

"Maybe on the planet you came from, but on Earth, this is when we puny humans sleep," she explained patiently.

"Oh." Then he walked in a hurried circle around the workstation gathering up the parts he'd just dumped on the table back into his arms. He sat down again on the stool, chucked the parts on the space in front of him into a haphazard pile and paused long enough to ask:

"So why aren't you sleeping?"

"Because your noisy hammering slash drilling slash chainsaw woke me up, silly," she said, laughing at his perplexed face.

"Oh! I'm sorry," he said with a concerned look. "Do you think you'll be able to fall back to sleep?"

She shrugged. "Maybe, but now that I'm a married woman it's hard for me to get a good night's sleep unless you're next to me."

"Oh, really?" he said in a deeper voice, looking suddenly pleased with himself.

"Can't help it," she added. "I'm addicted, but don't let that go to your head. It might explode."

He leaned closer to whisper in her ear: "Just proves you were always meant to be my woman."

"Woman?" she scoffed. "This is the 21st century and—"

"Yes, yes to all of the above. You're empowered and an individual and madly in love with the brainiest brain of them all!" he said, kissing her soundly.

Just as she was really beginning to relax, he broke the kiss off much too quickly and was on his feet again. As before, he half-ran to various other storage cabinets to grab a sledge hammer and a wrench. He certainly was hyper tonight, which would explain why he'd never come to bed. Before resuming the welding, he swiftly pushed her goggles back down over her eyes. After readjusting his own protective eyewear, the welding torch lit up the little corner they sat in.

She relented a few moments later. "Yeah, I guess it was…meant to be."

"Partially," he nodded, "but mostly because you find me irresistible!"

"You think?" she said, wincing slightly as the sparks from the welding flew left and right.

"I _know_," he said with a supremely confident tone. "So what is it exactly? My handsome profile? My goatee? My physically fit physique? My enormous head? Or my astonishing genius?"

_All of the above_, she thought, _and more than you'll ever know_. "Well, you are kinda cute I guess and so intellectual that I am astounded on a daily basis," she said with mild sarcasm.

"Kinda cute?" he repeated, completely ignoring the compliment regarding his intellect. He turned the welding torch off and tossed it onto the workstation, pushed his goggles back up and planted fists on his narrow hips. "Any idiot knows that overgrown bicep Scott has nothing on me."

Roxanne frowned. Metro Man, alias Wayne Scott, was certainly the last person on her mind these days, but Megamind obviously still thought about his former nemesis. This wasn't the first time and likely wouldn't be the last that he'd compared himself to Metro Man, or Music Man rather. She looked into his eyes that were fixedly looking at her and waiting for a response. They were so bright and vividly, perfectly green. No other color barged in to share the spotlight except for flecks of yellow that weaved a pattern through the green. There was, however, something else in his gaze that had nothing to do with the color. It was something that she didn't see too often because he normally hid it behind a mask of superior self-confidence. A distinct vulnerability rested there now.

She let the brain bot go, which floated away and slowly wound her arms around Megamind's shoulders.

"Then I am most definitely an idiot. I can only hope I get more idiot-like the longer we're married."

He relaxed his stance to put his arms around her waist, pulling her up against him, smiling a little. "I guess I could say you're the biggest idiot I've ever seen."

"I am _the_ idiot," she agreed, nodding.

If she were anyone else, then she'd probably be insulted given that he'd just basically called her an idiot, though it was far from an insult. Things tended to work in the opposite way when it came to Megamind. Even when he was very bad, he was really very good deep down.

"Oh!" he said suddenly, making her jump.

"What?" she said alarmed.

"Do you want to know what I'm working on?" he asked excitedly, jumping to his feet.

"Always."

Megamind got a little messy when in a creative mood. Blueprints sat in piles all over the workstation. Circuit boards lay on top of the blueprints. Nuts and bolts were scattered from one end to the other and even littered the floor. A soldering gun occupied the space next to the welding torch. Red wires and green wires and blue wires were also in the mix of parts. She leaned over what he'd been welding for a better view. It looked like a large, handheld remote with so many knobs and dials that it made her dizzy just to look at them.

She picked up a handful of papers that had calculations covering every inch. When he'd run out of room on one piece, he'd moved onto the next blank page. No eraser marks marred the numbers. Megamind never made a mistake when doing math. He could probably even do it all in his head. She wondered he even bothered writing it down. College Algebra hadn't been too terrible for her and even though Calculus had been a trial, she'd still passed it because D was a passing grade. She couldn't make heads or tails of this arithmetic though, because its complexity was unlike anything she'd ever seen before.

Giving up, she set the paper back on the table and noticed yet another addition to the clutter. Three empty coffee mugs also took up their own corner of the table. A once over around the lair revealed a coffee mug here, there and everywhere. Instead of refilling the same mug, he evidently kept getting a new one; as though he was so distracted he couldn't remember where he'd left the others and resorted to emptying the kitchen cabinets. He took off at a run for the second time, disappearing around the corner and then returned just as fast with a full mug of coffee.

"Megamind, how much of that have you drank?" she questioned suspiciously, pointing at the blue mug in his hand.

"Only twelve cups," he shrugged, swallowing a huge mouthful. The scalding liquid didn't even appear to burn his throat.

"Twelve!" she shrieked. "You drank all that by yourself?"

"Yes, why oh, I'm sorry did you want some too I'm afraid this is the last but you can have this one," he said all in one breath, holding the mug out to her.

"No, I don't want any, but you should really have cut yourself off after mug number five." She picked up his wrist and felt for a pulse, which was racing so fast she could barely tell it was thumping.

"Nonsense, I take bigger doses of caffeine than humans can!"

"But—"

"Never mind that now! Look!"

Face lit up with excitement, he grabbed her hand and ran, dragging her behind him, over to the platform that rose into the fake observatory. He'd never bothered to deconstruct the rickety structure and now used it regularly for nothing other than…observation.

"Behold my latest and greatest creation!" he announced once the platform reached the top.

The computer monitors were all up and running. Once again pushing her goggles out of the way, she passed by each to study them more closely. There were progress bars on each of the monitors. It looked like he was simultaneously uploading multiple programs into something. One progress bar showed 67 percent, another 28 percent and a third read 95 percent.

"Okay…" she surmised slowly. "Obviously you're uploading programs into something."

"Uh huh!" he confirmed excitedly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Go on! Guess!"

"Well, if I had to guess—"

"Oh, you'll never guess!" he interrupted impatiently. He seized her hand and pulled her over to yet another monitor. This one was twice as large as the others.

Her mouth dropped open. She was looking at an infinitesimally rotating Earth. "Is this is a live feed?"

"Yep!"

"Megamind, what is this?"

He could barely contain himself, looking ready to burst.

"Remember the Death Ray?"

"How could I forget?" she said sarcastically.

"Right. I forgot you were you there too," he said absently. "No matter."

He pushed his high-backed leather chair behind Roxanne, who yelped with surprise as she was forced to sit down without warning. He swung around to stand in front of her, the pajama cape swishing through the air. The monitors behind him all displayed different angles of the earth.

She pointed to the largest one directly above his head. "Just exactly how many satellites have you got in orbit?"

"Four, give or take."

Her mouth dropped open. "Is that legal?"

"By whose standards?"

"NASA's!"

"Who? Oh, I don't know," he said dismissively. "They've been in orbit since my days of being a criminal genius and I'm quite certain they're unaware of their existence. Even if they did find out, I'm a heroic genius now so it all evens out."

She eyed him dubiously, unconvinced and wondered if government officials would be knocking on their door anytime soon.

"Okay, what are you doing with so many satellites in orbit?" she asked, intrigued.

He grinned. "The Death Ray as you know, channels energy directly from the sun. Energy so concentrated that it's only good for catastrophic explosions. I wondered…what to do with all that raw power?" He held out his hands for effect. "Then…it hit me."

Roxanne listened carefully to every word he said. Unfortunately, the words were all very technical in origin and beyond her comprehension that the explanation was Greek to her human ears.

"…so by recalibrating the alignment of the Death Ray from one distinct energy beam into four separate energy beams emitted from the satellites in space, I can harness all that power into smaller, less explosive bursts."

Roxanne loathed feeling stupid, but she certainly did right now. It was hard to concentrate when she couldn't figure out what to concentrate on first. She grasped at the word energy. He'd said it more than once.

"The key thing is energy right?"

"Yeah," he said with minimal patience, testing her. "What kind of energy?"

Roxanne's eyebrows furrowed as she thought. "All right, the Death Ray draws energy from the sun…oh! Solar energy!"

He clapped his hands together. "Boingo!"

She scooted forward onto the edge of her seat, picking up on his excitement. "So you're collecting solar energy and channeling it through the satellites towards…what?"

"Not what. _Where_," he emphasized.

"Metrocity?" she guessed.

"A plus and fifty gold stars, Mrs. Megamind!" he cried.

Her eyebrows knitted together as she considered this latest project. "Does this have anything to do with the economy? Metrocity isn't in bad condition, but we're hurting just like every other city."

"Yes and no," he answered. "I'm the good guy now and it's my job to do good guy things. Besides, the Death Ray is useless to me in its current capacity. It's just been floating up there doing nothing when it could be providing an alternate means of power for Metrocity. Minion contacted the mayor earlier this week. We have a meeting tomorrow to discuss my proposal."

Amazed, Roxanne sat back in the leather chair and gazed at him proudly. Who'd have thought that after everything he'd done to threaten the city in the past with his villainous ways that he'd do such an about face and use his brainpower to help the economy and the citizens? She pushed herself out of the chair and approached him, putting her arms around his neck to give him a lingering kiss.

"Wow…what was that for?" he asked, looking bemused.

"You truly are a genius."

A pink blush filled his blue cheeks. "Oh….well, I know."

She laughed at his ever-present egocentricity. "Thank you for thinking of the city."

He shrugged one shoulder bashfully. "Well, it was nothing…but do go on."

Roxanne obliged. "First you repaired the entire city after Tighten nearly destroyed it. You gave the Equestrinator to the Metrocity SWAT team to be a Trojan horse against the criminals. Then you reprogrammed the robosheep to sniff for bombs. Now you're going to save our economy millions with your Death Ray." She laid her head on his shoulder and squeezed his middle. "You've done so many wonderful things for us."

He nodded. "I have, haven't I? Mmm, I was thinking that maybe I shouldn't call it the Death Ray anymore. It might give everyone the wrong idea."

"Everyone's memories don't exactly inspire joy," she agreed.

He tapped his chin with a finger as he thought and then his eyes suddenly gleamed. "The opposite of death! The Birth Ray!" he said dramatically, gazing into the distance.

"The Birth Ray," she repeated, trying out the title. "I like it."

"You do?" he asked brightly.

"Of course. Birth means a new beginning," she said beaming, raising her head to look at him.

He laughed excitedly, picked her up and spun her around in a circle. Since he was still a limitless ball of energy, he rushed all the around the fake observatory adjusting knobs on the monitors and typing codes into the computers so fast that his fingers were a blue blur across the keyboard.

"You know," she ventured. "This can probably wait until morning."

"It is morning."

"I meant morning that involves sunlight. You've hardly slept any this week and—"

"Nonsense! I must finish this as soon as possible. Besides, my body chemistry is different from yours. I can go on and on with very little sleep."

"Yes, but every genius needs his beauty sleep," she insisted, playing with the high collar of his pajamas.

"I don't think it's possible for me to be anymore bootiful," he said, looking at readouts he'd just printed.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "You're not even a little interested in getting some sleep?"

"Nope."

"Good. Me neither," she hinted, raising her eyebrows at him and squeezing his arm.

Megamind didn't say anything. He was probably not even listening to her since he was so intent on his latest project. Even though his genius was vast, he could be really dumb when it came to her signals. Funny how the behavior of males wasn't exclusive to human men. Male stupidity was apparently universal. He barely seemed to notice how her hand as it slid over his back and began rubbing between his shoulder blades.

Then he stilled suddenly and glanced at her slyly. She grinned back.

"Roxanne, have I been neglecting you?" he asked carefully.

"Yes!" she said with firm relief. For a minute there, she thought she'd have to spell everything out word for word.

He hurriedly tossed the papers into the empty chair and leaned in for a kiss. Their lips were very close to connecting when he suddenly thrust her away from him, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"AAAAHHHH!" he screamed. He jumped into the seat of the swivel chair, hurriedly brushing his hands all over his body.

Roxanne stared at him in shock, placing a hand over her racing heart. "What's wrong?"

"A spee-ider fell onto my head!" he bellowed, still brushing himself frenziedly.

She huffed and folded her arms. "A spider? Seriously? That's why you felt it was necessary to scream in my face?"

"Get it off!"

She slowly walked over to him, not in any hurry considering the heart attack that had almost taken place in her chest.

"It's all over me!" he yelled, yanking off his shower cap to rub at his head. "I can feel its hairy legs creeping everywhere!"

"Get down off the chair," she ordered.

He immediately jumped down; freaking out that the insect had taken up residence on his person somewhere. Roxanne slowly looked him over, turning him this way and that, but no spider could be found.

"I think it's gone," she concluded, straightening up after examining his leg.

"Are you sure?" he fretted, eyes darting all over his body. "How do you know?"

"Because it's crawling across the floor right over there," she said, pointing to eight legs that traveled into a dark corner.

"Oh!" Megamind leapt into the chair again. "Kill it please! No, stomp it!"

"Okay, okay. Big baby," she muttered.

Ever since he survived the ordeal of having a spider blown into his eye, Megamind had been a little skittish when it came to the eight-legged arachnids. Roxanne wasn't a big fan of bugs either, but they weren't that horrible considering she could easily squish them with a shoe. She stalked the insect as it scurried up the wall and with a loud thump the sole of her slipper caught the unsuspecting bug with a crunch.

"Eew," she said, looking at the bottom of the slipper.

"Oh, what a nightmare," he said, sliding down into the seat of the chair. "I really must see about getting an exterminator."

Roxanne searched for something to clean her slipper with, but there was nothing available that she could see. So she scraped it off on the papers Megamind had just been reading. He could always print another copy. After it was rid of all bug guts, she dropped the slipper on the floor and slid her foot back inside. She moved towards her currently less than brave husband—at least, when it came to fending off the terrifying wrath of the _spee-ider_.

She patted his large head. "Feel better now?"

"Yes," he said in relief, still shuddering. "Unpleasant little monsters."

Roxanne smirked. "Hard to believe the great and powerful Megamind has arachnophobia."

He glared back at her. "_I…do…not…have_…_arachno-fabio_!"

"No, you don't," she agreed with a smirk. "You have _a-rach-no-pho-bi-a_."

His nostrils flared. "Well, for your information, Miss Smarty Reporter Pants, I was going to tell you that you are very enticing in a shower cap and welding goggles, but I've changed my mind!"

This was too easy. Slowly she leaned over him, placing each of her hands on the black leather arms, trapping him on the seat.

"You changed your mind?" she whispered.

"Yes, I did," he said pouting, averting his eyes.

She stuck her lower lip out slightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"You didn't?" he asked, finally looking at her.

His face was so innocent and childlike that she didn't have the heart to tease him anymore. Sometimes she forgot just how vulnerable he could be, considering he'd spent his childhood in prison and going to a school where all the other children teased him relentlessly every day.

Smiling warmly, she kissed the center of his forehead. "No, I didn't." She straightened to let him out of the chair. "Why don't you just use your dehydration gun on the next spider you see? Set it for de-stroy. Problem solved."

His eyes lit up. "Excellent idea! It has a lower setting so it won't blow a hole in the wall."

She chuckled. "That's good a thing to remember, otherwise you'd have this place looking like Swiss cheese. Hey, what time is it?"

He glanced at his watch. "Almost 4:30."

With a shrug she said, "No point in going back to bed since I would be getting up at 5:00 anyway. Think I'll go make us some breakfast."

She stepped onto the platform and he quickly followed behind her. "Oh. You…um, aren't feeling…neglected…anymore?" he asked hopefully.

"The harrowing _spee-ider_ incident was kind of a mood killer."

His face fell. "Okay."

"But I might be feeling neglected later tonight," she hinted, slipping her hand into his.

"Okay!" he said again, but with much more enthusiasm.

The platform came to a stop on the lower level. Towing him behind her, Roxanne started for the kitchen. Megamind might not need a lot of sleep, but she refused to let him keep skipping meals or sending Minion out for donuts after she left for work. With all the gadgets he'd been building lately he'd need the extra protein to keep him going.

As they headed for the kitchen, Roxanne stopped short. Megamind collided into her, pushing her forward a step.

"What is it? Is it another spee-ider?" he asked worriedly, looking all around the floor and the high ceiling.

She stopped because she'd happened to notice something in the lair that she'd never seen before. The lair was huge and full of all sorts of machines, both large and larger. Somehow it must have just become lost among everything else. Nestled in a dark corner was an object about the size of a small car concealed by a black tarp.

"Megamind, what on earth is that?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: It's Mega-Possible

A/N: Megamind is not my creation and belongs to Dreamworks. Thanks for the kind reviews. It's been a while since I've written fan fiction and I'm a little out of practice. I didn't put any kind of note at the end of Chapter 1 to say that this is my first Megamind story and that it grew from a tiny one-shot plot bunny to a longer story. I don't know how much longer it will get, but I'm looking forward to finding out. I hope y'all like it. And I have to say that I absolutely love Megamind and I'd marry him if he didn't already belong to Roxanne. ;-)

What had caught her attention in the first place was the fact that it was the only thing in the lair that was hidden. The rest of Megamind's hoard of machines of mayhem was completely visible. Without waiting for an answer as to what the "it" was Roxanne took a detour, striding purposefully over to the mysterious item. She yanked the tarp off and threw it on the floor. This, however, brought her no closer to learning what the "it" was supposed to be. Taking a step back, she stared at it blankly, unable to determine what it was on her own.

It was rather ordinary in appearance, absent of the spikes and lasers that usually adorned Megamind's inventions. On the outside, the design looked simple enough. Pieces of metal had been welded together to form a perfect sphere. A single entry point—a small door—appeared to be the only way inside and there were no windows. She reached out to touch it and gasped, drawing her hand back. It wasn't hot, but it was unquestionably warm. Wordlessly, she looked back at Megamind for an answer.

Though his body remained still, his eyes kept darting from left and right. "Um…what?"

"Yes, that's my question exactly."

Puzzled eyebrows drew together. "I don't think you actually asked a question. I mean if you had, then you would have actually said the word 'what', which would have been followed by an inflection."

Roxanne made a derisive snort. "Fine. _What_…_is_…_that_?" she asked, punctuating each word with a point of her finger at the round metal object.

"It's a long story," he said vaguely, waving his hand dismissively.

Roxanne narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What else have you been doing?"

"Not doing. Did. _Past_ tense."

"How past?" she demanded.

"Oh, I'm not sure exactly, but I think the fourth time before the next to the tenth time I was in prison. It wasn't necessary to keep track of the exact passage of time since I always escaped not too long after incarceration. Minion, however, could probably answer that. He keeps such excellent records you know."

She wasn't about to let him change the subject. "All right," she said, folding her arms. "What _did_ you do?"

"Nothing!" When she was about to protest more, he interrupted first. "Roxanne, I swear it's nothing."

"Then why are you so…guilty?" she countered.

He wouldn't make direct eye contact and coupled with the nervous drumming of his fingers against his thighs announced that he was clearly hiding something, guilty about it and too afraid to tell her.

"Good morning, sir! Good morning, ma'am!" Minion's happy voice called from around the corner. "Would anyone like to have omelets for break—"

The fish in the fake ape suit stopped short when he saw the tarp laying in a heap on the ground and the whatever-it-was in plain view. His round eyes, if possible, grew rounder.

"Oh, is that the buzzer? I think I left something in the oven," he said, turning away.

"Minion! Get back here!" she commanded.

Minion cringed, looking just as guilty as his boss. The fish and the blue alien looked at each other, but neither said anything.

"Well?" she pressed, looking back and forth between the pair. "Is it another one of your evil plans that you never got to try out on Metro Man? Were you going to lure him inside and drain his powers or something?"

Megamind smacked himself on the forehead and excitedly paced back and forth. "Now why didn't I ever think of that? Tying you up inside would have been the perfect bait and then a Drain-O Beam perfectly aimed at his chest would have instantaneously drained his powers, but wouldn't have harmed you in slightest. Maybe I could—but no, no! I'm no longer e-vil and— "

He stopped talking when he saw the tight pursing of her lips.

"So…it was an evil plan that backfired wasn't it?" she assumed.

Megamind finally looked at her, scratching a spot on his pointy chin. "Depends on how one looks at it."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Depends on how one looks at it," echoed Minion lamely.

"Why won't you tell me what it is?" she demanded.

"Minion, code: I think we have to tell her," Megamind whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

"I can still hear you," she said with mounting irritation.

Megamind took a tiny step forward. "Okay, I can explain." He held out his hands as though afraid she might attack him. "Do you remember when you said you wished the world had a reset button?"

"Yes," Roxanne answered, cooling slightly as she thought back to that night. "Bernard—I mean you—said you'd looked into the reset button and that the science was impossible."

"And it still is," Minion confirmed.

"But I did more than just look into it," he said, advancing toward the sphere to type a code into a square control panel that rested just above the little knob on the door.

She gaped at the spherical object quietly sitting there and slowly her eyes widened to saucers along with her mouth that formed a big 'O'.

"_You_…_invented_…_a_ _time_ _machine_!" she shrieked.

Megamind pulled and the door opened with a soft _whoosh_. "I tried, but the science really is impossible."

Roxanne peered around the edge of the door to look inside, but didn't move any closer. Her husband had never technically won a battle against Metro Man. The technology, while not always on his side, had never really failed. It had just been due to the fact that he wasn't the best at executing his evil plans. However, Megamind was truly a mastermind when it came to his inventions. So she was hesitant to believe his repeated phrase, "_the science is impossible_."

Minion encouraged, "You won't be sent back to the Stone Age just by going inside, ma'am," he said with a chuckle.

"Here, I'll go first," said Megamind, putting one foot inside. Roxanne caught his arm, pulling him back.

"Should you be doing that?" she asked.

"Anxious to hang onto me aren't you?" he said, looking amused.

"Yes, I am actually." She eyed the would-be, history-altering machine with trepidation.

He grinned, took her hand off of his arm and led her into the interior of the orb. She moved closer to him, giving the contraption a steely glare.

Lights automatically switched on when they entered. Inside was virtually bare. The rounded wall of the sphere was like the outside. All the way around were the pieces of metal that had been fitted together. The only objects were two chairs in the center surrounded by consoles, vaguely reminding her of _Star Trek_, which wasn't surprising. It was a favorite show of Megamind's, though he spent the majority of the time laughing at the theories and conclusions presented by the ship's crew and insisted that he was seventeen times smarter than the android…

"_Seventeen? Really?" she'd asked. "And how do you know that?"_

"_Because I can count!" _

"_But he's always right by the time the episode is over," she had pointed out._

"_Ha! That's because he's an actor and I'm a real genius of mastermindery!"_

Pushing her into one of the chairs, Megamind took the seat next to her. Minion came inside too, the pleasant little smile still on his face. Clearly, he wasn't freaked out at all. This could be good or bad. She promised herself to keep an open mind, but was ready to bolt and grab them both if the time machine even hinted at vanishing.

"Look here," he said, pushing a few of the keys.

"What are you doing?" she cried as the consoles came to life.

There were two monitors for each of the chairs and both flashed an amalgamation of digital readings ranging from the date, the weather, the temperature, radar and a lot of other things that really made it look like she'd truly stepped into the middle of a sci-fi show.

"Roxanne, I promise nothing's going to happen. I _swear_ nothing's going to happen. As I keep saying, it's impossible."

"How do you know that for certain?" she fussed. "I mean, are you absolutely sure?"

"Believe me, I'm the only person alive with the intellect to make this work. I've tried every possible technology. Eighty-eight life sentences certainly gave me plenty of time to ponder the science of time travel. My calculations were never wrong of course, but there are so many other factors to consider and my conclusion is that it's just—"

"Impossible," she said for him.

"And I always felt like I was missing something," he muttered with a frown, but then he shrugged it off, smiling again as he showed her more of the workings of the time machine.

"This is where you plug in the trajectory to ensure you don't materialize in the wrong place—for instance, the oncoming path of a freight train, which is difficult to calculate. Course, it helps to know the exact location before time travel, but I won't bore you with the details. Let's not forget about the particle accelerator, which is here. Very important that we don't forget that!" he said pointing. "And here is where the date and time are input, which I programmed to be right down to the actual second of the point you want to travel back to. There's a very narrow window to get events just right."

Roxanne sat back in the chair, taking it all in. This was quite a shock considering it wasn't everyday that a wife discovered her husband had a time machine quietly collecting dust in the corner.

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers, trying to ward off a headache. "Why didn't you tell me about this? Didn't you think I should know?" she asked, growing irritated now that the shock was subsiding.

He blinked in surprise. "Of course I want you to know everything, but it's been a long time and I guess I just forgot it was even here."

"It's a good thing we forgot considering you had that evil lair yard sale," Minion muttered. "That would have been very bad. What if someone had used it?"

Megamind gave him a haughty look. "No one could have figured out how to turn it on. I'm the only one—"

"With the brains to do it, Sir," finished Minion sarcastically. "And the blue button that says "On" in bold letters isn't an obvious indication at all."

Megamind turned his nose up at his fish companion.

"Oh yes, I can see how something of this magnitude can be so easily forgotten," Roxanne said dryly. "What about the past were you trying to change anyway?"

"I was hoping to switch places with Mr. Goody Two-shoes," he said casually.

"So that you could grow up at Scott Manor to become the good guy. Then Wayne would have grown up in prison to become the criminal mastermind," she deduced. "I guess I can see why you—what?"

Both Megamind and Minion instantly burst out laughing in unison. Minion's metal frame creaked as it shook with laughter. Megamind had doubled over in his seat, slapping his knee with his hand.

"Why is that funny?" she asked, baffled.

"When...you…said," he croaked, barely able to speak for laughing so hard. "Metro Man…a _criminal mastermind_? Pppfffftttt!"

The fits of laughter started all over again. Even Roxanne couldn't help giggling when a picture of Metro Man came into her mind. He was wearing Megamind's infamous evil cape…_The Black Mamba_ and the custom baby seal leather boots.

"Okay! Okay!" she said, chortling. "Obviously Metro Man isn't the brightest star in the universe—"

"Of course not!" Megamind said, appalled. "That honor is mine!"

"And he's tone deaf to boot," she added. "All I'm saying is that had the 'reset button' worked, then things might be very different."

The enormity of what she said didn't really hit her until their eyes met. All three stopped laughing at the same time. What if Megamind had been able to unlock the mystery of time travel? In all likelihood, they wouldn't be together now. She wouldn't have married him. And she wouldn't be with the man that she knew without a doubt was the man that had always meant to be hers.

_Megamind_.

"Yes, Roxanne?"

She started slightly, not realizing that she'd said his name aloud. "Um…so you just forgot about it huh?"

He shrugged. "I guess I just didn't need it anymore. Our future changed without any help from this thing," he said, jerking his thumb at the time machine.

She smiled, laying her hand on top of his. Clearly his thinking was along the same lines as hers. Somebody sniffed and she glanced at Minion. He was rubbing at his eye with a fin.

"I'm glad the science is impossible," he sniffled. "I think I need a tissue."

"Aah, Minion. Don't cry," she said, getting up to hug him.

He put his big hairy, metal arms around her and sniffled some more. "We never would have gotten to be friends, ma'am."

"Minion, we're family now. You can call me Roxanne."

He lowered his eyes bashfully. "Oh, I don't know about that. But…okay." He cleared his throat and whispered as though afraid he would be caught, "Roxanne."

She laughed. "That feels good doesn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am! I mean, Roxanne," he chuckled.

Megamind was staring at the rounded ceiling and walls of the sphere. "Minion, I suppose we should start dismantling the machine. The parts could certainly be useful for other things I'm developing."

"Of course, sir. Just name the day," he replied.

"It can wait until after the meeting with the mayor. The Birth Ray is our priority now."

Roxanne noticed that the warmth she'd felt when touching the sphere also emanated from the floor. It was slight, but it was there.

"Why is it warm?"

"I always kept it charging just in case it finally worked and then Minion and I'd be ready to go at a moment's notice. Which reminds me," he said, squatting down.

There was a small hatch in the floor that he punched another key code into. The hatch lid popped open instantly and inside was a circular object that came to a rounded point. This in itself wasn't interesting, but the fact that it was glowing with blue light made it extraordinary.

He reached for it, but stopped just short of pulling it out. She thought she had imagined it, but it looked as though his eyes widened slightly, but it was gone the next moment. Before she could contemplate what that had been about, he lifted the glowing object out of its confinement.

"The power source," he said, holding it out to her.

Roxanne took the little object from him to examine it closely. From what she could see, the power source that made it glow was completely contained within the glass. There was no slot for a battery or an outlet for a plug. She turned it over a few more times and then shrugged her shoulders.

"All right. I give up. What is it?"

"My binky," he said proudly.

She shook her head as though she hadn't heard him right. "Your _binky_? As in…your pacifier?"

"That's right," he confirmed. "At least, it's one of many crude copies I developed. The original still resides in the dehydration gun."

"Wow. Earth kids really don't know what they're missing," she mumbled, gazing at the glowing baby ring, thinking there was nothing _crude_ about this copy at all. He was just…simply put, amazing.

"I haven't thought about my binky in years," he said fondly.

She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "Megamind's little binky. That's adorable."

He nodded. "Yes, I was an adorable little baby too."

Roxanne rolled her eyes. "So how can this little thing power an entire time machine?"

His superior face was a little too superior. "Well, I won't bore you with specifics—mostly because it's beyond your comprehension, but this is the basis of every invention that I have ever invented. The dehydration gun, the Mega-flier, the brain bots, and even the robosheep. All of it. Without my beloved binky, I never would have amounted to the dastardly handsome role of _super villain_."

Roxanne was torn between irritation and awe. _Beyond her comprehension_? She may not be a science geek, but she wasn't stupid. Yet most of what he had said tonight was so geek and truly beyond her comprehension that she didn't make a snappy comeback. Plus the fact that she kept picturing a baby Megamind with his bright green eyes, happily sucking away on his binky was too cute to ignore.

He was watching her with a smile, unaware that he'd insulted her, which was a common occurrence while being married to the personification of narcissism. She just shook her head because this was such an ingrained part of his personality that she'd grown used to it. And it was actually kind of cute, but vowed to sew her mouth shut rather than tell him that.

"Well, Megamind…I'm impressed."

"You're not mad anymore?" he asked warily, turning the binky over and over in his hands.

"No, how can I be mad at you? You invented a time machine. Granted, it doesn't work, but you did it nevertheless."

"You really can't stay mad at me can you? I'm too cute and adorable. You'd have been crawling back for forgiveness before too long," he said, giving his fingernails a quick buff on his sleeve and then a once over with his eyes.

"Right," she said slowly. "Don't push it."

He squatted down to put the binky back in the hatch and then made a strange noise as he popped it into place.

"Hmm," he said quietly, slowly shutting the lid.

"What?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing," he said, getting to his feet.

"Why'd you put it back?"

"For safekeeping. Today is a busy day and I can't afford to lose it, copy or not. Minion will come back for it later."

All three started to exit the time machine. Roxanne and Minion made it out first and then just as Megamind took one step out, she turned around to ask one last time:

"You're sure it doesn't work?" She had to ask, especially since he'd left the binky inside still connected.

He rolled his eyes. "Clearly you have far more trust in my abilities than is normal for a wife in her husband, but if I must prove this particular failure to you, so be it."

Megamind approached the console and pushed the large blue button in the center between the monitors. Nothing happened.

"Told you so," he said conceitedly.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "The one time I'm glad you're a failure, well, except for all the times you were kidnapping me. I was glad then too."

Megamind never got the chance to respond. The door to the sphere slammed shut on its own locking her husband inside.

"Minion?" she whispered fearfully. "Please tell me the wind shut it."

"What wind?" he whispered back.

"Megamind!" she screamed, running up to the door. She could hear him banging on the door with his hands and she did the same. She jerked on the knob, but the door never budged. He was trapped.

"Minion, move Roxanne away from the sphere!" he commanded from within.

"No! Minion, let go!" she yelled as he grabbed her arms and dragged her back to wait for whatever was going to happen. "What's going on?"

"I…I…don't know. It's never done that before and it's never seemed unstable either."

"You mean….it might BLOW UP?" she yelled again.

"Well…," he said uncertainly. "Or that might not be what it's doing."

She gasped in dismay. "But he said the science was impossible!"

"It is!"

"Then what is it doing?"

Just then, the time machine began to glow a soft blue just like the binky. To her horror, the sphere began dematerializing allowing a view of the wall behind it. Energy ribbons encircled the machine, arcing in all directions. Then with a large flash, the sphere vanished into nothing.

"MEGAMIND!" she screamed.

Minion loosened his grip and she ran to the empty spot, standing where the time machine…and her husband…had just been. It was futile to hope that the sphere was invisible like the car. The space was utterly, completely void of anything. Roxanne rarely cried, but her shoulders slumped. Her breath caught in her throat as she hugged herself, letting the tears fall.

"He broke his promise," she said in a tiny voice.

The time machine had fulfilled its purpose. He was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi and thanks for reading! This chapter ended up being a monster. My carpal tunnel has taken up permanent residence in my hands. I'm glad everyone likes this so far. You know, I must have been clear as mud about the time frame that Megamind had programmed into the time machine. He wanted to go back to the day he and Metro Man arrived on earth. In the movie when he talked about the reset button, that's the first thing that came to my mind—that he'd want to change his past and switch places with Metro Man. However, he may also have been talking about going back to the moment before the Death Ray was fully charged because changing that outcome would have meant he and Metro Man would banter until they were both old aliens. So it could go either way I guess. I'm no science expert, so I Googled a bunch of stuff and I do love Star Trek so I tried to pull terms and ideas from that show since it's about as scientific as you can get! It's also fun to do a screen-by-screen shot of the movie. There's so much amazing detail that I missed the first time I saw it. Happy reading!**

Chapter 3: It's Mega-trouble

Megamind was briefly stunned, torn between elation that the time machine worked and shock that the time machine worked. Roxanne's pounding on the door was futile. Once it slammed shut it wouldn't open again until the time machine had traveled to its destination. In the beginning, he'd designed the apparatus to seal itself because the intention had been not return to the present, but to start a new chain of events. Traveling backwards through time was happening whether he wanted it to or not.

He knew now why the time machine had never worked before and he considered slapping himself in the face for having missed something so obvious that a child could have discovered it and he should have known that his calculations hadn't been wrong. _Obviously_. The binky was like a battery and batteries wouldn't make the electronics work if they weren't properly affixed. It hadn't been pushed in all the way. When he had heard the little click after sliding it into place, he'd wondered if the binky had been wrongly attached all this time, but had shrugged it off, thinking he couldn't have been so stupid, rather, that Minion couldn't have been so stupid because it was probably definitely Minion that had put the binky in the time machine. Maybe.

Though her voice was muffled, he could hear Roxanne screaming for him. There was little time left, but he had to get her away from the machine because bolts of energy were about to discharge and she would be electrocuted. He yelled for Minion to pull her to safety, knowing without a doubt that Minion would follow his orders no matter the cost. Though there wasn't a window to speak of, he could see Roxanne perfectly. He couldn't very well have gone traipsing through time without seeing where he was going. There was a tiny camera in the door that reflected images from the outside onto the large screen just above the door on the inside. It had automatically activated the moment the door slammed shut, as did the rest of the time machine's systems.

He flinched at the sight. Roxanne's panic-stricken face was like a punch to his chest. Minion's face too, was full of dismay as he pulled her struggling form to safety. The energy discharge began, obstructing the view. He placed the palm of his hand against the door in goodbye and watched as his family vanished before his eyes.

Wasting no more time, he strapped into one of the chairs and waited. There was nothing he could do really. The date and time had been pre-programmed long ago as he'd wanted to leave no margin for error. He was about to alter history and soon be sent back to the exact moment that his escape pod, along with Metro Man's, entered Earth's atmosphere. The target had been to send Metro Man's pod careening onto someone else's doorstep and allow his own to crash into the mansion belonging to the Scott family. He'd never given thought to where Metro Man would have ended up. He hadn't cared then and if he had to admit it, he still didn't. Then the next sequence of programmed and also unchangeable dates would send him into the altered future.

The new plan he'd just formulated was foolproof. To put it simply, he would re-alter history back to the way it was before the time machine had suddenly decided that the science _was_ possible. He would have to wait until the programmed dates were complete and then plug the numbers in again to return to the past, move the time machine out of the way, thereby allowing his pod to be the one sent flying into the Metrocity Prison for the Criminally Gifted. Then he could return to his time.

"Foolproof," he said with unwavering confidence.

He activated the invisible shield that he had insisted Minion install, which was another precaution merely to ensure that the time machine wouldn't be seen floating in the air by anyone. A glance at the screen above him revealed that he'd traveled backwards to a time a little over twenty years ago. Metrocity looked much the same. As expected, the escape pods entered the atmosphere and hurtled towards the ground. The time machine slid itself into position—the path of Metro Man's little pod.

The impact was enormous, sending a shockwave roiling through the time machine. Megamind was thrown forward and would have pitched over the console but for the straps that kept him harnessed to the chair. He barely noticed Metro Man's pod on the screen as it went shooting in another direction entirely. The sphere spun around and around so fast it threw off his equilibrium. He hadn't expected to receive such a forceful jolt. Leave it to _Metro Mahn_ to have had a super escape pod of invincibility. Megamind had to grasp the edge of the console, endeavoring to remain steady. Alarms went off, signaling a very serious malfunction. The collision had obviously done extensive damage, but there was no way to assess it from the inside until he was on the ground, which by what he could see on screen was rocketing up to meet him.

With one hand on the keyboard and the other still grasping the console for support, he attempted to program the date of his and Metro Man's arrival on earth back into the computer, but a short trickled through the console, sending a shower of sparks into his face. He threw up his hands to cover himself and looked up briefly through his fingers at the screen. It was now black. He was falling blindly towards his death again. Why was he _always_ falling to his death?

The console kept flickering off and on so he made a last ditch effort to activate the rocket couplings on the bottom of the sphere, hoping it would slow the free fall. A grinding noise and a loud whoosh echoed around the metal sphere as the rockets on the bottom flared to life. The console flickered one more time and went offline, leaving him helpless to do anything else. Even if he had made it back to his own time, he doubted he would live through the crash.

Knowing he had done everything he could, he sat back in the chair, gripped the arms and braced for a crash-landing, which happened within the next breath. The force of it jarred him painfully. The harness dug into his chest. But he was still alive! The rockets must have slowed the rapid descent just enough to keep him from being pulverized, but he did not come to a stop. Only too late did he realize the design flaw in building a round time machine. Its circular form did what every round object did. It rolled and kept on rolling across whatever surface it was on. Surely it wasn't possible to be dizzier than he already was, but the horrible twisting sensation in his stomach suggested otherwise, forcing him to shut his eyes to ward off the nausea.

What seemed like minutes was only mere seconds when the machine slammed into something hard, caving in one side. Though blind to what was happening outside, he felt it roll upward and then suddenly drop. It bounced once and finally came to a stop. He breathed a sigh of relief until it began tipping over backwards. Well, at least it had stopped rolling, but now he wasn't exactly in the best position. That last roll over had left him upside down. Before trying to extricate himself from the chair, he did a quick check to assure that no bones were broken. When he was satisfied that every extremity was still where it should be, he unbuckled the harness and promptly dropped, landing on his head with a hard thud.

"Ow," he groaned, rubbing the little bump forming right in the center of his skull.

Even though the time machine had stopping rolling, his inner ear had not. His vision swam around and around, but he tried standing anyway only to fall down on his head again. The tiny bump already at home in the middle of his head swelled a little more.

"Maybe I should stay here for a while," he said, moaning.

Once the dizziness subsided, he stood and waited a bit to make sure he wouldn't fall down a third time. After he was confident that his equilibrium was functioning properly, he walked to the side that hadn't caved in to open a small compartment. This little gem had been Minion's idea and with any luck it hadn't been emptied since the day Minion had filled it.

"That fantastic fish!"

Inside was a villainous change of clothes, non-perishable food, two projection watches and a wad of cash. Minion had thought of every practical necessity. Megamind's contribution to the stockpile had been more of a tactical nature. Notebooks held copies of outlines to every single e-vil plan he'd ever created. He dug further into the deep compartment to see what else he could find and out came a Ziploc bag of…six dehydrated cubes? What in the world could these be? He didn't remember putting them there. After all, it had been a long time since he'd stepped foot inside the temporal creation. Just because he had a superiorly larger brain than humans with the capacity to hold just as much information as eight desktop computers didn't mean he remembered every little detail of everyday for the past twenty years.

Megamind hurriedly changed from his pajamas into his black leather jumpsuit, boots and cape. He certainly couldn't walk around in pajamas in public. For all he knew, the time machine had landed in the middle of busy Main Street in downtown Metrocity. Though he didn't have the original dehydration gun that he'd been carrying since he was a child, he'd made multiple copies throughout the years and had included them in the storage. He grabbed one and hurriedly strapped on the thigh holster.

The door was tightly sealed and wouldn't move, most likely due to the crash. He pushed and pushed, but couldn't even pry it open. His slight frame wasn't really meant to ram heavy objects, but he tried ramming it with his shoulder once and then twice, but quickly abandoned that idea when he yelped in pain. After the second attempt to open the door, the time machine rocked back and forth suddenly. Megamind stopped rubbing his shoulder and looked all around, waiting to see if it was going to move again, but it didn't. Whatever he crashed into was not stable and the quicker he got out of here the better.

A quick blast from the dehydration gun towards the immovable door took care of that obstacle and he put the little cube into the compartment along with the rest of the stash. He jumped out and regretted such a hasty action, immediately wind milling his arms backward until he was able to catch his footing. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw how close he'd come to death for the 956th time.

"Wow, that was too close," he muttered.

The time machine had slammed into the trunk of a very large tree—the obvious cause of the side caving in. _That_ alone would be difficult enough to repair. If he could locate Metro Man, then perhaps he'd be willing to un-cave the side for him. But that wasn't the half of it. The tree set at the very edge of a cliff, that was partially uprooted and now hung precariously over the precipice, the weight of the 1,284.6 pound time machine pressing against it.

"Great," he griped, seeing that the situation was much worse than he thought. "Now how am I supposed to repair it while it sits on death's door?"

Scott Manor rested on a vast property high above the rest of Metrocity, overlooking the bustling streets, bright lights and superfluous skyscrapers. The edge led to a long way down the side of the rocky cliff. Another foot and he'd have gone tumbling down the side and surviving a fall like that was unfeasible.

He took a step closer to the time machine, keeping a wary eye on the edge of the cliff and quickly assessed the damage. The dehydrated door would be an easy fix. Now the computer on the other hand…well that was a problem all by itself. With any luck, the pawn shops he always used to have Minion scour for spare parts were still in their same location. That meant he'd have to use all the cash that Minion had put away, which would leave him broke. Either that or steal it. And he _really_ wasn't supposed to steal anymore, but this was an emergency! Then there was the fact that the time machine was balanced dangerously close to a sheer two hundred foot drop, which really made the prospect of repair very irritatingly hazardous. For the time being he put that thought aside and would just have to cross that bridge when he crossed it.

He then turned his attention to finding a way out of the forest. Trees surrounded him from every angle. From what he could tell, it was early evening as the sun was setting behind him. The light would be dissipating soon and it would be difficult to find his way amongst the tightly packed trees. Just as he was about to move on, he happened to notice something that made his heart sink. He rushed back to threshold and gingerly stepped inside. The hatch that held the binky within had a deep fissure running down the center. He reached up to pull it off and it broke apart into his hands. The binky fell and landed on the top of his boot. It was cracked and the blue glow of its power had faded away. This binky was only a copy of the original, which was still safely tucked inside the first dehydration gun…but that weapon was in the other timeline. The dehydration gun he had now housed a copy of the binky too, but it would be difficult to remove because he'd never considered removing it before. Without the power source, the time machine would never work.

"Maybe I could hotwire it somehow…" he said aloud, already thinking of ways to do just that.

First off, the time machine had to be repaired and that would definitely take _time_. The irony of the situation made him snort. There was no time to lose in getting back to the right time, but time was what landed him in the altered present in the first place and now that he had all the time he could possibly need because he had a time machine, he couldn't afford to waste any of it because his top priority was putting time back the way it should be.

Rather than dwell on that quandary at the moment, he set off to find out just where exactly he'd ended up on the Scott grounds. The forest of trees was thick and now had a very long path carved into the grass by that hunk of metal behind him. Trees were uprooted, limbs littered the ground and the grass had been ripped away, leaving behind a long stretch of loosened soil and rocks. He'd only taken a few steps outside the copse of trees when he halted in astonishment.

About one hundred yards of lawn sat between him and Scott Manor. He'd never realized just how large the mansion was until it was right in front of him. There was no one around that he could see, but he waited a few minutes anyway, just to be sure. It was very quiet except for the chirping crickets. Wind was absent, leaving the trees still in the summer air.

Minion was his main concern presently and if the time machine had correctly altered history, then the logical assumption was that his aquatic friend had to be in the giant house somewhere. Megamind crossed the enormous property, gaze sweeping left to right and didn't see a single person. A high brick wall surrounded the home and the closer he got, he could see a break in the wall that was a direct path to the backdoor. Everything remained quiet as he stood between the break in the wall, watching the windows for signs of someone watching back. There were none. It wasn't likely that the house stood empty. He was bound to run into someone eventually.

Even though he was in a new timeline and that everything was most likely the opposite of how it should be, he knew that first he had to find Minion. He was certain his long-time friend could help. Roxanne…she was another matter entirely. In all probability, they weren't married in this altered reality or worse…she might not even know him, but he ignored that dreadful notion for the time being, concentrating on not getting caught.

"Good evening, Sir."

"Aah!"

Megamind jumped, heart pounding painfully against his rib cage and spun around. As he turned, there was a man approaching from behind, wearing a suit and holding a poodle. Where _had_ he come from? Megamind hadn't seen a single person so the man must have been somewhere in the forest too. Both eyed each other in surprise.

"I didn't know you'd returned home so soon, Sir. We weren't expecting you for another week or so," he said in an English accent. "Did the conference go as planned? I'm sure it did and I'm sure you impressed everyone with your revolutionary ideas."

Megamind clenched and unclenched his right hand, contemplating dehydrating the man, which was another thing he really wasn't supposed to do anymore since he was no longer e-vil. Roxanne had given him strict instructions to stop dehydrating innocent bystanders after a particularly bad incident with a UPS delivery man who had somehow found the secret entrance. But this was an emergency right? It didn't mean he was still the bad guy. It just meant that it was bad timing on the man-in-a-suit's part.

"What did those fellows at Stirling Innovations have to say?" he questioned with vague interest. "I'm sure they were green, or _blue_, with envy."

He hesitated just as he was about to draw the gun from the holster. This man wasn't surprised in the least to see him, as though his presence was a normal occurrence on the Scott grounds. What had he just said? That he'd been surprised to see him at…_home_? Megamind glanced at the hulking abode that was right in front of him. Was Scott Manor really his home in this reality? He stared blankly at the man, who was expecting a response. He had to think fast.

"Um, yes. My ideas…the envy of everyone, of course."

"I knew they would be, Sir. Your work has been very impressive to a dunderheaded butler like me that doesn't understand a bit of it. What did Mr. Stirling have to say? I'll bet he's letting his copycat skills run amok now that you're on top of the market."

"I don't know. I…uh…didn't talk to him." Megamind glanced left and right, hoping no one else would come out of the woodwork.

"Odd," said the butler, rubbing the poodle's head. "You told me Mr. Stirling called just last week and said he was eager to discuss your latest inventions. No matter. I've always thought he was a bit of a flake anyway, Sir. Certainly not as inventive as you."

This man certainly wasn't at a loss for words and kept rambling. He'd taken a few steps forward and Megamind hesitated only a second before falling into step next to him.

"You must have been taking a stroll in the cool evening air to unwind after such a long flight home. Muffy here," he said, looking at the dog, "got out again and your mother's been in such a state. Thought the little runt had run away."

"My…_m-mother_?" he said in shock, unaccustomed to hearing that word directed at him.

"Yes, well you know how attached Lady Scott is to all her animals, Sir."

Lady Scott..._my mother_? Not Metro Man's mother? Changing the past had _actually_ worked! Only once before had one of his plans worked. The Death Ray had killed Metro Man…well…not really, but retirement could definitely be called the same the thing. And Metro Man wouldn't have retired had it not been for _his _brilliant Death Ray. Something he still took all the credit for.

He couldn't help the little flip in his stomach. "It actually worked," he said in awe at his own genius.

"I'm sorry, Sir?" the butler asked, looking at him questioningly.

"The uh, software…yes, it worked." He took a chance on his next words because if this was home, then it was likely that Minion was here too. "Can you tell me where Minion is?"

The butler blinked in surprise. "Where he has been since the day your little pod landed under our Christmas tree, Sir. In the basement in his tank."

"Great. Thanks!"

Megamind bounded up the limestone steps of the grandiose porch, throwing open the doors. The vast elegance of the mansion was stunning. He'd seen pictures in the newspapers before and had even watched a KMCP-8 News report of Roxanne's, who'd taken the viewers on a visual tour of the grand mansion ages ago. Sitting in a prison for his entire child and adult life had provided his immense brain with an endless array of images, but they hadn't really compared to what he currently witnessed.

Intricate crown moldings continued around the ceiling just like the décor in the mayor's office, but those had not been gilded like these whirly patterns. The floors were a dark green marbled tile with gold fleur-de-lis in the center of each. Pillars supported the high ceilings, giving it the appearance of a Greek temple. Statues adorned pedestals and floor to ceiling portraits of people in fluffy frocks accented the walls.

"Eh," he said to himself as a moment's regard, not as impressed as he thought he'd be. Somehow he didn't think he could have ever thought of this place as home. It was too clean. Not a speck of sawdust or metal shavings dotted the floor. The floating brain bots were noticeably absent. He was used to spiked metal objects and gargantuan robots and wires and chainsaws and circuit boards and coffee mugs littering the atmosphere. There wasn't anything that remotely resembled the chaos he surrounded himself with on a daily basis.

He wondered what Roxanne would think of it and then he clearly pictured her face, beautifully unimpressed, her little nose cutely wrinkled in disapproval. She wasn't a flashy person and knew she'd hate it. After the tour, she'd interviewed the Scotts. He'd casually asked her about the house, curious about how his former nemesis had grown up.

"_They gave me the impression that they're a happy family, but I don't know…they were all very stuffy and fake smiles and forced laughs, drinking snobby tea in snobby saucers too little to hold an ounce of anything with their snobby pinkies in the air," she had said disinterestedly. _

"_Really?" he'd asked with surprised amusement._

"_Yeah and it's impractical to live in a house so big that you'd have to yell to have a conversation," she said with that disapprovingly cute little wrinkle of her nose._

"_The lair is large in its own right," he'd gently reminded her._

_She'd glared forcefully at him and snippily replied, "I prefer the flowing juices of the lair's manic creativity to high society snobbery and the fact that I didn't marry into a boring family full of uptight, pompous jerks that don't know how to act like anything other than robots."_

_Megamind had glowed with pride._

Roxanne. He needed to get back home.

Footsteps followed him inside. The butler was closing the doors and set the poodle down. The white fur ball took off and ran up a winding staircase, shrieking all the way.

"I hope you found Europe to your liking, Sir. It…um…appears that you brought us back some very…ahem…interesting cultural fashions from the Paris catwalks."

Megamind glanced down at his beloved leather and spikes and then imparted the man with a narrow eyed look, chin tilted up. Black leather blended very well with his skin, making his blue look twice as blue, he thought.

"I assure you, butler person, it is the height of fashion wherever…it is you said I've been," he said haughtily, gesticulating with an indifferent flip of his hand.

The butler's eyebrows rose. "Are you feeling all right, Sir? You seem a little out of sorts. Perhaps a brandy would soothe your nerves."

"My nerves are soothed just fine, thank you," he said with a sniff, turning to leave and find Minion.

Then the butler cocked his head to the side, a wrinkle appearing between his dark brows. "Sir, is that growth on your chin?"

Megamind immediately touched his chin, feeling only the neatly trimmed goatee in the center and thinking something must be protruding from his jaw. "I don't feel anything."

To his displeasure, the butler walked forward, squinting deeply. He reached out to touch Megamind's face, who instantly recoiled away from the man's hand. Being touched was not on a list of his favorites, unless of course, it was by Roxanne. But that was entirely _different_ and a lot more fun.

"You have…a goatee?" he asked, looking strangely at the thin line of hair in the center of Megamind's chin.

"Uh…yeah," he asked, backing away.

"You didn't have that when you left," he pointed out; eyes glued to the strip of hair.

"Oh, well. I'm an alien, you know. _ My_ follicles produce keratinous filaments far more quickly than humans," he explained, mildly scathing, which was actually true. His biology was far more superior in every way to that of the humans.

"Hmm," he said, gaze darting back and forth between Megamind's eyes and the goatee. He cleared his throat nervously. "This visit to Europe certainly produced some…er…interesting results, Sir."

"That it did," he said, taking another step back.

"Very well, Sir. Are you hungry? I can have Miss Patterson whip something up in a jiffy."

"No, just go back to…uh…whatever it is a butler…does," he said, walking backwards, shooing the inquisitive man away with his hands.

The butler nodded, but to Megamind's annoyance, he opened his mouth again. "Oh, I meant to ask since you were outside…did you see that meteor falling? Or whatever it was?"

Megamind froze. "Nope! Didn't see a thing," he denied nervously.

"I don't know how you could possibly have missed it. It went shooting right over the house. I'm guessing it landed on the opposite end of the grounds."

"Still didn't see it!" He took a few more steps back, hoping he could escape, even though he didn't know where the basement was at or how to begin looking for it. Weren't basements upstairs? Or was it the opposite direction? He didn't know, never having had a basement before.

The butler shrugged. "Oh well. Perhaps we'll go looking for it tomorrow. Have ourselves a little Easter egg hunt just like when you were little."

"A what?" he asked, giving the man a bizarre stare. "Why would anyone want to hunt for an egg when they're in those little carton things in the frigoorator? Are you supposed to shoot it if you hunt it down? Or would you step on it? Yuck. Course, I guess you wouldn't have to shoot it if you stepped on it. Problem solved in other words, but then it'd be difficult to pick them back up to scramble when they've been all over the ground."

The butler shook his head, looking wholly nonplussed. "Sir, I can see that you have a little bump on your head. Did you hurt yourself while you were in Paris?" he said, eying the top of Megamind's large dome.

"Of course not!" he said, rubbing the bump, trying to push it back in and wincing with the effort.

This man in the uncomfortable looking suit was a little too perceptive. Megamind would have to be more careful from now on and a made a mental note to ask Roxanne once he got back home about why people went on hunting parties for the oval objects laid by chickens.

"Oh! Easter egg hunt! Yes, we'll have to organize a search party. I'm exhausted after flying over the ocean so goodnight!"

Megamind looked around, hoping he'd find a room with a sign above it that said "Basement" and an arrow pointing the in appropriate direction, but no such luck.

"Um…where is this…basement place you speak of?"

"Sir, I think we should call a doctor. That bump on your head could be a concussion," he said gravely.

"No!" he barked. The butler jumped back. "What I mean to say is that I'm fine. Just tired. I just want to go to bed."

"Very well," the butler said, eyeballing him suspiciously. "The basement is beyond that staircase, down the hall. Really, Sir, you must try to be more careful," he called after Megamind, who'd taken off as fast as possible to get away from all the questions. "You know how fragile you can be. I don't think flying overseas is the best thing for you considering your problems with motion sickness! Which reminds me, you're due for an allergy shot and a refill on your drops next week. You always forget these things, you know!"

Megamind sharply spun around, cape fluttering along with a soft rustle, and continued past the stairs, not bothering to reply. What sort of a man was he in this timeline? A sickly creature of some kind? Motion sickness? He had the stomach of ten men! He stopped to growl in frustration, fists balled against his thighs. There were rooms on both sides of the hallway, which was _very_ long. The little poodle was still barking its head off somewhere above him on the upper floor.

"Annoying creature," he grumbled, wondering if Roxanne's forbidding him to dehydrate people extended to animals.

The first door he went into was just a broom closet so he moved to the next and then the next, finding nothing but broom closets, linen closets, pantries and washrooms. Did anyone even live in this mausoleum? The only remaining doors sat at the end of the hallway and he kicked at them in frustration because they were locked.

"I don't have time for this!" he cried to no one in particular, throwing up his hands in aggravation.

Just when he was about to turn around and try the upstairs just in case basements were actually located at the top of a house, a crackling noise emerged from an intercom next to the double doors. 

"Sir? Is that you?"

"Minion!" he exclaimed excitedly, yanking on the knobs, having already forgotten that they were still locked. He pounded heavily with both fists against the ornately carved door. "Minion, let me in!"

"Did you forget your key again, Sir?" his fish friend chuckled amusingly.

There was a click and the doors swung open of their own accord. Megamind rushed inside and then slammed them shut. But Minion wasn't there. Instead, he was met with a long flight of concrete stairs that were well-lit all the way to the bottom. He hurried down and leapt before reaching the last four steps, eager to see his friend.

"You're home early, Sir and here I thought it would be two weeks before—uh, Sir? What are you wearing?"

"The finest baby seal leather in all of Paris apparently," he said turning around to face his friend, half-expecting to see Minion in his robotic ape suit, but that certainly wasn't what he saw. "What are _you_ wearing?"

"Nothing. I'm a fish," said Minion. "Clothes aren't required."

"But…wow!" he breathed, taking in the enormous room he'd just walked into. It was nearly as big as the prison yard had been, but much cleaner and far more interesting.

It was every scientist's dream. Many of the devices he had in the lair were in this room, but there was a significant difference. Everything, every computer—and there had to be at least twenty—was state of the art. Page after page of data scrolled up the screens, performing millions of undoubtedly necessary functions. There was a line of servers that extended from one end of the room to the other, keeping the massive operating systems running. Currents of electricity rapidly discharged towards the ceiling, announcing the presence of Tesla coils. Their sizzling hum filled the large room. But they were newer and much less beat up than his, which had only happened when Metro Man showed up to put a stop to his army of robot snapping turtles—the precursor to the sheep. He'd abandoned that idea as the turtles had dawdled too much to accomplish any e-vil in a timely manner.

Numerous lab tables were neatly arranged in parallel formation and of these, there were five to a row and each consisted of very expensive experimentation devices. Every lab table contained compound microscopes and stacks of Petri dishes. There were test tubes filled with colorful liquids and a colossal beaker full of a bubbling orange liquid was suspended above the largest Bunsen burner he'd ever seen. Cages of white lab rats were off to the side, the occupants squeaking as they crawled all over each other. There were eraser boards mounted on the walls, full of equations, copious notes and elaborate diagrams of genius designs for…was that an _android_? Endless rows of bookshelves were full to the brim with book titles that ranged from software version guides, quantum physics, quantum mechanics, space travel, artificial intelligence, and…_cloning_? He'd never thought to clone himself before. What a missed opportunity for e-vil that could have been! Then he had to remind himself that he wasn't e-vil. Oh, it was very easy to slip into old habits when surrounded with so many objects of potential mayhem.

Everything in this laboratory of the gods was phenomenal, but what he was most awed by was Minion's tank. When the butler person had said that Minion was in his tank, Megamind had pictured a little aquarium with a fake castle and brightly color rocks lining the bottom. He had no idea that the tank was as sophisticated as the rest of the equipment surrounding him.

The tank was not the standard rectangular shape. It was a long glass pipe mounted to the wall, running the entire perimeter of the gargantuan room. The pipe twisted and turned, winding all around the ceiling, suddenly dropping to eye level only to rise again. The tank intricately weaved its way around the computers and the lab tables, as though to give Minion a front row seat to witness the scientific action. His gaze traveled along the pipe until it disappeared into the wall where another closed door was positioned.

"It's not Halloween, is it Sir?" Minion swam the length of the pipe, coming to a stop by a calendar hanging on the wall. "Nope, it's definitely July 30. Is that outfit the new trend in France?"

Megamind ignored the question, still preoccupied with the technological display in front of his eyes.

"If you're swimming way up there, how did you unlock the door to let me in?" he asked, unable to curb his inventor's curiosity.

Minion's big brown eyes widened and his toothy mouth fell open. Wordlessly, he pushed his fin against the side of the glass tank. Megamind glanced back up the length of the stairs to watch as the doors opened automatically.

"Fascinatingly ingenious," he murmured. "Okay, you can close them again."

He watched as Minion, mouth still open, pushed against the switch to close the doors. Megamind hadn't noticed at first, but there were switches running the full length of the tube, apparently giving Minion control of the doors and who knew what else. The entire room perhaps. He smiled smugly at his old friend.

"I designed your tank didn't I?" Minion barely nodded. "Boy I'm good! Even if it was the other timeline me. Let's face it…I'm fantastic in any time."

Minion just stared at him, until his eyes darted to the left suddenly and he swam off in a flash, coming to a stop by another little switch. Before Megamind could react, a steel cage dropped down from the ceiling, effectively trapping him where he stood. Machine guns dropped down out of the ceiling, aiming right at his head. He wasn't surprised, however, as this had been one of his methods in the early days of trying to catch Metro Man. In that timeline, he'd charged the bars with 10,000 volts of electricity. And let's not forget the steel spikes ready to pop out of the cage bars at a flick of the switch, which of course, contracted, thereby impaling the victim. As an extra dose of e-vil, he'd coated the tips of the steel spikes in a handmade concoction that caused incessant itching. Metro Man had easily broken out of that with his super strength, but Megamind distinctly remembered during Roxanne's interview the next morning, that Metro Man repeatedly scratched his elbow. He'd enjoyed a triumphant laugh even from the confines of his jail cell.

So Megamind didn't dare move a muscle now. He gave Minion a bored look, who frantically swam back and forth.

"Who are you, imposter, and where is Sir?" he ordered.

"Minion, I appreciate the quick call to duty, but I have something very important—"

"I won't ask again!" the little fish interrupted. Another flick of a switch and just as expected, spikes shot out of the cage bars. "What have you done with Wayne Scott, my ward and my friend?"

Megamind's eyes popped out of his head. "_My_ name is _Wayne Scott_ in this timeline? What are the odds of them choosing the same name? Twenty-seven to one," he said, figuring that out quickly.

"Answer now or this will be the last thing you ever do!" he said bravely, though his little body quivered all over.

Megamind rolled his eyes, which prompted the contraction of the cage bars. Slowly the spikes began moving in closer to his body.

"Minion, I came here from another timeline in a time machine that I invented with you and now we must reset the past to change this future…and confound it!"

One of the spikes poked his arm, sending a tiny shock into his body. He stood on his toes the better to reach the roof of the cage and pushed the hidden emergency switch off. The spikes retracted into the bars and the cage lifted suddenly, rising back into the hidden compartment in the ceiling above his head. Megamind stalked over to the tank, scratched his arm and looked above him where Minion watched everything in horror, fins covering his mouth.

"How did you know how to turn the cage off?" he whispered through his fins, sending little bubbles floating up.

"Because I invented one just like it in _my_ timeline," he said, scratching his arm. "Minion, you must believe me. You're the only person who would. Apparently in this time, I am Wayne Scott," he grimaced at the taste of the name on his tongue, "But I'm also Megamind from another timeline.

Minion lowered his little fins and looked down at Megamind in disbelief. "I don't believe you."

"Minion, would I ever lie to you?" he asked beseechingly.

"Yes," he answered icily, "which is exactly what you're doing right now because you're an imposter."

Megamind kept scratching his arm. "That's right, but I'm not lying now and I'm not an imposter. I told you. I am from another timeline. I reset the past and created this future. This itching solution really does work exceedingly well, doesn't it?" he said, digging hard into his arm with his too-short fingernails.

Minion chuckled. "Fitting for an imposter. You'll scratch your fake blue skin off."

"I am not an imposter!" he clipped.

"Prove it!" Minion challenged.

"I will!" he snapped impatiently. "I'm from the planet—"

"Ha! Common knowledge," Minion cried triumphantly. "You'll have to do better than that."

"This is ridiculous, Minion! How could I be an imposter?"

"You're wearing Sir's projection watch, which you obviously stole and disguised yourself as him to steal his secrets and ruin him!" he shouted, pointing an accusatory fin at Megamind's face.

He nodded slightly, acknowledging that point. "That does sound like the old me, but I'm the new me, who's no longer e-vil so that's clearly not the case this time."

"Sir isn't evil. He never has been," Minion defended.

"Oh, well thank you, Minion. That's very kind."

"I wasn't talking about you, imposter."

"If I'm really an imposter, then taking off my projection watch will reveal the true _me_," he said, undoing the band. He held up the watch. "See? Still me here."

Minion gave the watch a fleeting look and said, "A technicality. Anyone can have plastic surgery or have professional make-up applied. They're very good at that these days."

Megamind curled his lip in a sneer and put the watch back on. "Well then, Minion, what do you suggest I do to prove my identity?"

"_If_ you are who you say who you are, then you'll know exactly how to answer these questions."

"Oooh, I like trivia," he said, steepling his fingers together, but not before scratching his arm again.

"How many times did you electrocute yourself building that cage?"

"Ha! That's easy. Twenty-five, but I was only out cold twenty-two times."

"Wrong! It was four times and you were never out cold! Where was your inventor's conference last year?" he said, quickly moving to the next question in one breath.

"How should I know? This me wasn't there," he shrugged carelessly.

"Ha! Oh, no you weren't. You had the flu." Minion's eyes looked from side to side as he searched for another question. Then slowly he smiled. "I've got you now. Get this wrong and I'm calling the police."

"Oh, I've been in jail before. It's my first home after all," he said fondly.

"Fifteen years ago, you confessed a secret to me and you never told _anyone_ but me. What was that secret?"

Megamind stilled, raising one black eyebrow inquisitively. Minion was talking about a past birthday. Even though he didn't know the actual date, the warden had declared his birthday to be the day that his pod had crashed into the prison yard. He was behind bars for most of his birthdays, which he'd always hated, and that time had been no exception. For some reason, he'd begun dreaming about his parents even though he barely remembered them. Could the answer be the same in a different timeline?

"Just because I never knew my parents doesn't mean that I don't miss them," he said solemnly, looking at his feet. "I've always missed them and I always will. It wasn't fair that I got to live and they didn't. So I told you that I wished I had never been born because that would have made everything easier. No pain. No…anything. Just oblivion."

He glanced back up at Minion expectantly.

Minion barely paused for a breath. "I believe you."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: It's Mega-Weird

Sir ran back and forth between the lab tables to peruse the experiments, letting out little squeaks of excitement as he explored the lab with curiosity befitting a child. Minion hadn't yet mentioned the technological marvel that was currently concealed in a large vault under the floor because it was possible that Sir just might explode with the news. Considering that he'd almost passed out with rapture when he'd found the lightsaber, it was probably best to wait until he calmed down and was fully capable of keeping himself together before revealing that Mr. Scott had also invented a time machine of his very own.

Megamind took the lightsaber in his hands with such tenderness that it could have been a newborn baby.

"Does it work?" he whispered in awe.

"Not yet, but you—or he I mean—is very close to a breakthrough."

"I've tried many versions myself, mostly with lasers at first, but the beams extend infinitely and slash through everything no matter how many miles away. The lair was in shambles and so was the telescope at the observatory, which is probably why it was abandoned. I resorted to testing super-heated plasma. Is that what this device is attempting to utilize?"

"Yes, Sir only recently developed the right temperature that the ceramic chamber inside the titanium shaft can withstand," Minion answered with enthusiasm.

"12,256 degrees," Megamind assumed, holding the laser sword closer to his eyes in order to obtain a more detailed look.

"Exactly."

"But no workable power source I see." He tried the knob on the side, but nothing happened.

Minion's brow scrunched together. "No, he's tried everything from the ridiculous to the serious."

"Meaning rare crystals, double AA's and/or lithium?" Megamind asked dryly, having already been there done that.

He nodded, bubbles floating around his little body as he moved through the water. "Everything under the sun, but he just can't make it work."

"Though I've lately had no time to work on my lightsaber what with being the busy hero, I've been thinking of experimenting with nanotechnology. It would have to be comprised of trillions of nanobatteries," he went on, feverishly pacing back and forth, keeping a death grip on the lightsaber. "Which we haven't caught up to yet because the technology is still forty years away. My binky is a source of considerable power," he said, rushing through his words as he thought it out. "The trouble is that the power of the binky is one of a kind. I've made copies of it, but the science has never been as accurate or as reliable because the properties that made up the binky could only be harvested on my home planet. Earth has no such mineral."

"You're the brains behind the technology, Sir. If anyone can invent…well, just about anything, then that person is definitely you."

Megamind held up the laser sword in front of his face, imagining a blue glowing torch extending from the hilt. If he could just….

"NO! No! Home first. Sci-fi later," he said, gingerly placing the lightsaber back into its place of honor—inside a safe with an algorithmic sequence combination that he'd easily guessed in less than a minute and a quarter. He closed the door to the safe, but not before taking one last awestruck look at the elegant weapon.

Even though he truly believed Sir wasn't lying, Minion still needed further clarification. Mr. Scott—or Megamind rather, as he had referred to himself—claimed that by traveling back through time, he had changed the past thus producing a future that between the two of them, only Minion could remember. Though the alien fish was no genius, Sir definitely was and he knew his boss was capable of inventing just about anything, be it a time machine or an android.

The little fish considered Sir as his best friend in the world and watched as he began wandering around again. He studied the neatly organized notes tacked to the numerous corkboards around the lab while also holding an armful of spiral notebooks crammed with formulas and data concerning the various experiments. They were the same person and yet they weren't. Minion couldn't help feeling a little weirded out, especially by the strange costume Sir was wearing. He'd never seen Sir in anything except baggy jeans and t-shirts with slogans that said things like "What would Spock do?" This Sir's explanation for the black leather with the blue lightning bolt image and spikes had been a little vague, if it had been explained at all. He'd adamantly said it was very popular in his timeline and that all the citizens of Metrocity simply adored his fashion sense.

If Minion needed any further proof that this Sir was telling the truth, then it was the pronunciation of the city as one word. His Sir did the same thing. Lady Scott had always believed her adopted son had a speech impediment and had brought in speech therapists and linguists, but it wasn't fixable. Through the years she eventually gave up and grudgingly accepted Sir's natural speech quirk. She had always seemed embarrassed by it and had often made a point of explaining the _impediment_ to guests at her stuffy parties and that's when Sir would disappear into the bowels of the basement—the only place he was at peace. Not usually prone to violence, those were the times when Minion wished he had arms and legs. Then maybe she'd really understand the definition of a speech impediment once a few of her teeth had been knocked out.

The thin line of black hair in the center of Sir's chin was difficult not to stare at. "So…is that a stick on?"

"Is what stuck on what?"

Minion pointed with his fin. "Your goatee."

"Hardly. I grew this all by my manly self, thank you," he said proudly. "Though you're not the first person here to be shocked by my appearance. That butler person thought it was weird too."

"You mean Basil saw you too?" he asked warily, scrunching his eyes worriedly.

"Accidently. I didn't intend to talk to anyone, but he just appeared out of nowhere! I think I handled the situation pretty well, if I say so myself. The moron thought I had hit my head. Everything I said confused him."

Minion closed his eyes and rubbed his head with a fin. "Well, I can't say that I blame him really. You're not exactly…"

Megamind slammed the notebooks down on the top of one of the lab tables, plopped down on a metal stool and gave Minion his full attention. "Not exactly what?"

"You're just…not…I mean…you aren't you."

"How can I not be me when I've always been me?" he asked confusedly.

"You're different. Rather, Megamind and Wayne Scott are two entirely different people."

"You can say that again," he said sarcastically.

"Look, you and Sir are both from the same planet, but that's mainly where the similarities end. He's not like you exactly and you're most definitely nothing like him," Minion explained delicately.

"What's so different?"

"Well…" he hesitated, worried that he was betraying his friend, but this was Sir too and he had already decided that he believed him strictly based on the fact that he had also wished at one very low point in his life to have never been born.

Growing up in a mansion with the money and power to accomplish whatever he wanted hadn't benefitted Sir at all. Childhood had been difficult and puberty had basically never ended. He'd been picked on at school so badly that Lady Scott had hired private tutors to complete his education at home, which meant all interaction with other children ceased. His parents, while financially able to give him everything he ever wanted, had neglected the one thing he'd needed. Love. They were too busy with their parties and month-long vacations to notice that they had a son who felt like an outcast in his own home. Because he was so unhappy, his Sir had also delved deeply into the controversial science of time travel and invented a time machine. Minion had no doubts whatsoever that the machine worked, but Sir hadn't tested its possibilities because he'd never been brave enough to try.

Minion had done what he could to be the best caregiver Sir needed, but it was difficult considering he'd spent his whole life in a tank that didn't provide him with the ability to ever go anywhere. He didn't have arms, which made hugging impossible. And Sir was desperately in need of a hug. He didn't have any friends and the people he worked with on a daily basis were definitely not friends. They were simply other scientists and inventors with their own socially awkward lives to deal with. Not that he really saw them in person. Skype was the method of contact for Sir every day. Rarely did he leave the confines of the basement, except for the annual technology conference in Paris. He had to go to these meetings of the minds whether he wanted to or not because it was necessary for his business to interact with the other inventors around the world to introduce his latest brilliant creations and to check out the competition. Not that anyone could compete with Sir. He was too good.

"You're just not very outgoing, Sir. I mean, he isn't. He wouldn't dare step outside in an outfit like that because he'd be afraid of what people might think."

"Ridiculous! I couldn't be handsomer than when I'm in black leather."

"No, no! I agree, but he's just a very low key person. He doesn't have any friends except for me and his parents are kind of distant so he's by himself a lot. Again, except for me. So he doesn't leave the basement too often. It's like he's…in a prison all the time," Minion said sadly, sagging.

Megamind sobered instantly. _That _certainly sounded familiar. Changing the past wouldn't have made one bit of difference anyway. There was a distinct similarity between the two realities. In either world, he would still have grown up in a prison of his own making. Long before he'd become Metrocity's hero, he'd wanted to take from Music Man the very same thing he'd been robbed of. He'd longed for a family with brothers and sisters. He'd just assumed that living in a mansion and having a bottomless bank account would give him all the happiness he'd always longed for. But it wasn't riches that had given him the first truly happy moment in his life. That moment had happened when a smart, kind, beautiful woman had thrown her arms around his neck, giving him the first hug he'd ever experienced. Roxanne became the happiness he'd been craving since he lost his parents. Though the hug didn't last long, he still remembered how the warmth of her body had seeped into his rigid, cold chest. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel her arms now. It was weird really, seeing that had he been successful in changing the past years ago then he would have made the worst decision of his life.

"So this whole reality is wrong?"

Megamind shook himself out of his somber daydream and closed the notebook on cloning that he'd come across while perusing the various odds and ends of the lab. His eyes had widened each time he turned the page, seeing just how simple the process was. The human scientists had only successfully cloned sheep, but this was a carefully laid out formula for cloning _people_. He had read and then re-read the formula. Maybe he could just take this notebook back with him when he returned to his own time. Purely for scientific research. _Naturally_.

"Yes…for me at least," he said, looking up at his friend.

"But what about all of my memories?" Minion protested lightly, thinking back to the last time he'd seen Sir before he'd left for the conference. "They're still wrong?"

"Technically, no. Just different. Our lives took another course from what you know. I accidentally created a distorted version of the present."

Minion swam back and forth in a pacing way, fins calmly flapping. "I'm sorry, Sir. It's hard to believe, but I do believe you!" he added hastily when Megamind opened his mouth to protest. "What I meant to say is that it's a lot to take in, hearing that my past isn't yours and that even it though it did actually happen, it was in a different reality."

"It's all cause and effect. For every action there is a reaction. By accident, I went back to the past and changed everyone's future, which created a new future that is wrong. Unless I go back in time _again_ to set things back the way they were, then this reality will continue with an entirely different course of events, which could prove disastrous. My presence here has created a paradox because there are now two of me in this version of the present, which could bring about unknown and catastrophic results since I'm here and not there and he's here too and if something goes wrong while I'm trying to change the past again for the first time, fail and then keep trying over and over, we could all be thrown into a causality loop of a continually recreated and never-ending chain of alternate realities that would destroy the space-time continuum because our universe can only hold so much matter and if these alternate universes exponentially increase in space each time I try to change the past, it's very possible that the cosmos will explode and suck every reality into the mother of all supermassive black holes of cosmic proportions so colossal that all life in every galaxy across the universe will be crushed into oblivion."

Minion's lower lip quivered slightly, but he attempted to think positively. "Oh, is that all? And I thought you were going to say…something…else," he laughed weakly.

Megamind shrugged. "That's one possible scenario. It's also possible that my attempt to put everything back to the way it should be will work perfectly, but it's impossible to predict. Either way, I have to try and fix this."

He leaned forward to rest pointy elbows on the counter of the lab table, cupping his face in his hands, and morosely stared at the wall. The prospect of getting home to the right timeline was going to be _very_ complex if not impossible. The time machine was so badly damaged that it would take weeks to repair and he didn't have weeks. The longer he stayed in this alternate world, the worse it could be. If something happened to him…if he were killed or terribly injured, then this wrong world would continue when it never should have begun. The dehydration gun was dissectible and the duplicate binky removable, but if he couldn't get the time machine working, then it would be pointless.

As Roxanne's pretty face teased his eyes, his heart sank even lower. The desire to see and talk to her was suddenly stronger than ever. If she still lived in Metrocity, he could probably find her, but they wouldn't be married. She wouldn't know him as her husband. To her, he would be nothing but a stranger. And seeking her out could also create havoc because he didn't know if he could restrain himself from kissing her. It was very likely he'd never see _his_ Roxanne again—the one he loved so much that sometimes it hurt. And even though he was talking to Minion right now, he still wasn't the _right _Minion. Megamind grew gloomier by the second.

"I wonder what she's doing right now. If she's worried about me…" he thought aloud. Then he mentally kicked himself. "Roxanne's not worried because we're all in this schtoopid reality and she probably doesn't even know I exist."

"Who?" asked Minion, confused by the obvious reference to this Roxanne person. Sir didn't know any women at all apart from his adopted mother, but that couldn't really be considered as knowing a _girl_.

"Oh!" Megamind dropped his head face first onto the surface of the cold lab table.

"Who's Roxanne?" Minion asked again, too curious to drop it.

Megamind raised his head, yanked off the glove of his left hand and sharply pointed to the plain, yellow band of gold enveloping his blue ring finger.

Minion's little eyes bugged out. "You're married?" he yelled, a stunned toothy jaw dropping open.

"Of course!" he fired back, annoyed at the shocked look on the fish friend's face. "We have been for two years, four months and sixteen days and we're still madly in love. The honeymoon never ended…if you get my drift," he said, grinning smugly.

Minion swam to a portion of the tank that extended over the lab table just above where Megamind was sitting, to squint at the ring. He rubbed his eyes first just to make sure the sparkle from the gold wasn't a trick of the light. "Seriously?"

"Aren't I always, Minion? And she's really hot!" he threw in.

Minion shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sir, but it's just hard for me to picture _you_…with a…_girl_." He chuckled nervously, rubbing his face with a fin. "You really are from a different timeline, huh?"

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that a woman—who's insanely hot—" he said again—just to clarify—"would be in love with me? Have you seen this profile?" He turned his head sideways and drew a hand across his face for effect.

"No, no, no! That's a given! I've always told you your looks are matched only by your superior intellect," Minion amended quickly.

"But…." He prompted.

"But the Sir I know can barely look a woman in the eye let alone be married to one."

"Why?" he asked, looking up at Minion with curious eyes.

"Well…" he said, trying to find the appropriate sequence of words that didn't come across as insulting. "You're…a…loner, Sir," he said kindly. "And so painfully shy that girls give you an upset tummy."

"An upset tummy? What am I? Six years old?"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," he said, bristling some. "You—or Mr. Scott—is very intimated by girls because they can be kind of intimidating to nice boys like you. Or him, I mean."

"So I'm a troglobiont loser in other words," he said darkly, beginning to be irritated by the other timeline he.

"There's no need for name-calling," Minion said, annoyed at the assumption Megamind was making. "Sir's just as much of a person as you and me. He led a very sheltered life and didn't have the opportunity as most people do to make friends. All he had was me."

The corner of Megamind's mouth lifted upwards slightly. Same old Minion. He would always defend him alternate reality or not and had always been there to look after him from day one. Without that fantastic fish, Megamind knew that in all probability he'd never have left that little escape pod and would most likely still be there hiding from the world.

"You're all I had too for a long time until Roxanne came along. I wish I could talk to her. She'd know the perfect thing to say. She always does," he said, thinking of her knowing eyes and reassuring touches.

"How'd you meet her?" Minion asked with eager interest. He'd always hoped Sir would come out of his carefully constructed shell one day and find that special someone.

"Uh…"

Megamind didn't really want to explain the awkward kidnapping story since Minion remembered nothing about it. Not yet anyway. It had been hard enough meeting her parents for the first time. That's when he found out that Music Man's super abilities paled in comparison to his mother-in-law's stare of death, which he'd been on the receiving end of for one painfully awkward week. The ordeal had made him wish he was back in solitary confinement.

"She's a reporter and since I'm an alien from another planet she…interviewed me a lot," he said vaguely.

Minion cocked an eyebrow. "Do you mean Roxanne Ritchi?"

Megamind jumped to his feet with renewed vigor. "Yes! That's her! Metrocity's greatest reporter!"

"Wow!" he said with admiration. "Nice work, Sir. She is very—"

"Hot!"

"As you've said three times now, but I'm not counting! No, siree, Sir!"

"You don't happen to know if she still lives in the high rise on Main Street, do you?" he asked, knowing it was a long shot, but unable to keep from hoping.

Minion shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't know."

Megamind shrugged nonchalantly, but inside his heart lurched painfully. "Maybe it's better that I don't see her. She'd probably think I was nuts anyway. And it would probably be detrimental to the paradox we're currently in. We'd all blow up or something."

"Spontaneously?" Minion asked doubtfully.

"That's what the experts say, of which I am one, so yes, we would all explode."

Great. More good news. Minion knew he shouldn't have come out of his castle this morning. It would have been better just to sleep in. There was, however, one last thing he had to find out.

"Sir, I have to ask…why did you change the past? You seem happy and in love. Why would you want to change that?"

"It was an accident. Your fault really."

"Mine? Oh, no." Minion lowered his eyes gloomily, sinking to the bottom of the tank.

Megamind winced at the look on his Piscean friend's face and caved. "All right, all right! It wasn't your fault! It was mine, but only by .26 percent."

The fish brightened a little. "Oh, what a relief! I really don't want to be responsible for the destruction of the universe. Who needs that hanging over their head?" he joked. "Tell me what happened, Sir."

Megamind obliged and told him the whole story, from everything to Roxanne's curiosity about the time machine to the incorrectly placed binky. "I mean, who knew that pressing the 'On' button would actually turn it on?"

"Yeah, who knew?" Minion agreed loyally. "Anyone of lesser intelligence would have already blown up the universe."

"True. Lucky for us, it was me that traveled through time and not some dunderheaded human scientist."

"Are you going to try and reset the timeline?"

"Of course. This world," he said, pointing to the air in general with both hands, "isn't my home. Or yours. And…I can't just give up Roxanne. _I won't_."

To an outsider, Sir appeared in control of his emotions, but Minion knew better. Even though things were different in this reality, there was a lot about the two Sirs that were identical. They wore the same expression of dispassionate concern when something troubling had happened. But Minion could see the slight shift in the green gaze which belied that mask of detachment. Inside he was probably close to panicking, but wouldn't admit it even to Minion.

"I know this is a stupid question, but can you fix the time machine?"

"Yes, but the damage is considerable and will take time and a lot of money to fix. In my approximation, repairs will take six days and nine hours."

"If anyone can, Sir, it's you," Minion encouraged, knowing it was true.

"The binky is broken, which means I'm stuck here for now. I can remove the copy from this," he said, patting the gun in the thigh holster. "It will take great skill to extract it properly without damaging the coils and lucky for us, I have that great skill, but that would leave me unarmed. Too bad the technology hasn't caught up to the lightsaber yet. Not to mention that it's a delicate procedure because one false move will destroy the binky and any chance I have of getting home."

"It's not as bad as all that, Sir," Minion said knowingly.

"Oh really?" he asked in disbelief. "How would you know? Have you got a shiny new time machine hidden in here somewhere?"

"As a matter of fact, I do and I also know where there's an extra binky to spare so that you don't have to dismantle your gun."

Megamind gasped. "Of course! The other me would have a binky too! Where is it?"

"You have it."

Automatically checking himself over, Megamind looked all down his front to his feet. "I do?"

Minion shook his head, still smiling cheerily. "Not you. The other you."

"The other me as in _Wayne Scott._" He spoke the name through clenched teeth. "So where does he keep it? A secret vault of some kind?" Megamind looked around, trying to visualize where another safe could be.

"Uh…not exactly," Minion said delicately. "Sir tends to keep it with him. On a chain. Around his neck."

Megamind arched a pointy black brow. "I wasn't aware that I was into jewelry."

"You—or he—isn't either. Sir has…separation issues."

"Please tell me he doesn't parade around Metrocity sucking on it!" he cried in embarrassment. He was stared at enough as it was.

"No, he does not," Minion said, scaly hackles rising in defense of his best friend from his…best friend. It was really strange trying to differentiate between the two. "He wears it under his clothes!" He waved a reproving fin at Megamind. "You of all people know how precious that binky is. It's the last thing your parents gave to you and it's your last memory of them too."

Megamind sighed and slumped back down onto the lab stool, put in place by his friend's admonition. "I'm…sorry." Odd how he still wasn't entirely accustomed to apologizing. It tasted liked something sour had just touched his taste buds.

Minion smiled back leniently. "Oh that's okay, Sir. This is a weird situation for us both."

He nodded. "Do you think I can persuade me to let me borrow it?"

Minion's smile faded. "Um, probably not, but maybe Sir will make an exception since you're him and he's you. You'll have your work cut out for you though."

"If anyone can convince me, it's me!" he said with stout confidence, getting to his feet. "But first…where's the other time machine?"

Minion smirked. "Right this way, Sir."

He swam to the middle of the large basement lab and then pressed a switch inside his tank. Megamind watched, fascinated as a portion of the floor opened to reveal another flight of stairs leading down into darkness. Minion swam over to a corner where part of the tank disappeared into the floor and stopped.

"I'll see you on the other side." Then he was gone.

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. I had to go out of town for work and for some reason that always interrupts my flow, which creates writer's block. I made a lot of references to Star Wars and Star Trek and I own none of that. Plus, I am not a scientist and I had to research time travel theories. I also referenced the Science Channel TV show called "Sci-Fi Science" and the episode is called "How to Build a Lightsaber", which is really fascinating to a nerd like me. **

**Also, an amazing author on this website, Hunger4righteousness suggested that everyone look up Jean Paul Gaultier's Par Homme, or Le Male, as it is actually called. I was in my local Ulta today and saw the very ripped blue torso, which is the bottle's design. I couldn't stop laughing! It smells really good too and I think Roxanne would agree with me. Very manly. Very Megamind. **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: It's Mega-depressing

Megamind didn't waste another second and began the trek down the dimly lit metal stairs, the heels of his clanking boots making the only noticeable sound. The lighted stairs didn't extend beyond the last step and revealed nothing but blackness in front of him.

"Minion?" he called uncertainly into the darkness, taking a small step forward.

"Right here, boss!"

Megamind jumped and looked to his left. The tank was right next to his head as was Minion, floating in the water. They were so deep under the ground that the dim light from the lab above barely penetrated the blackness surrounding them.

He pointed with a fin. "The light switch is right there."

Megamind flipped it up and eagerly faced the space no longer concealed by darkness. Bright white light flooded the room that was considerably smaller compared to the lab above them. The thick concrete floors and cinderblock walls acted as insulation. He could hear himself breathing and the soft hum of Minion's tank, but nothing else. The only object sat in the center of the room, covered by a large white sheet. Without waiting for the go ahead, he approached the object, pulled back the sheet and immediately gasped.

"_This_ is the time machine?" he cried, one long finger pointing at the contraption as he looked over his shoulder at Minion.

"Of course! There's no bigger fan of science fiction than you, Sir," he gladly explained, swimming to a stop just above the machine.

"I know, but really…a _DeLorean_? Why didn't I think of that? Hmm, maybe the day I designed my time machine was an off day." He paused. "Who am I kidding? I never have an off day because my intellect runs 24/7."

"It was a favorite movie when you were a kid," Minion added helpfully. "Classically 1980s and you have to admit, it's a really cool car."

"Is it ever!" he agreed, laying an admiring hand on the hood.

"So what does your time machine look like?"

"Nothing as nerdy cool as this. Mine is your basic geometrical sphere."

"Well, it's not really the look that counts just so long as it works." He grinned at his friend's back, who was busy making a circle around the car. "Go on," he encouraged.

Megamind rose to a standing position. He'd been leaning over to look inside the passenger window. How he was simply itching to get his hands on it! "Go on what?"

"You know you want to," he said indulgently. "It isn't locked."

He needed no further encouragement and bounded around the front bumper to open the gull wing door on the driver's side. With a crazed gleam in his eye, he hopped inside and made yet another squeak of nerdy delight to be sitting inside a perfect replica of the car from the movie. As he ogled the flux capacitor for a solid two minutes, he noticed a slot above the capacitor of what could only be made for a binky-shaped object. He enthusiastically searched for the keys, but didn't find them.

The water tank didn't extend in and around the car like it did on the floor above them so Minion could no longer see Sir. It was quiet inside the car and he had a pretty good idea of what Sir was probably doing.

"I should tell you that Sir keeps the keys with him at all times to prevent this technology from falling into the wrong hands."

"As any inventor would," Megamind concurred, slamming the glove box shut in irritation. He'd really wanted to give this thing a test drive, but he settled for gripping the wheel, hands molding to the curve of the steering apparatus. "Before we were married I had to be extra careful when it came to Roxanne. She was always snooping around the lair and with good reason. My genius inventions were always too hard for her to resist as was the handsome inventor."

"You call your house a lair?" Minion asked, mystified. "Is that a common description for houses in the Metro City you came from?" That sounded a little dark and scary to Minion, who was used to the bright lights of the lab.

He got out of the car and popped the hood to have a look inside. "She was always trying to learn my secrets," he went on conversationally, not having heard Minion's question because he was too engrossed in his study of the internal combustion engine. "Her persistence was an inconvenient hindrance and at times, I had to clear my calendar and reschedule the e-vil, but it was adorably cute."

"Evil? Secrets? What kind?"

Megamind stared at the engine, searching to see if any adjustments needed to be made, but nothing did because the lack of grease and dirt made it obvious that this car had never even been driven. He loved getting under the hood of any vehicle and knew everything there was to know about cars. In fact, one of his many technological talents including the easy dismantling of a car, which included the impressive ability to put it back together in less than two hours. Before he'd been moved to the high security wing, escaping from his cell had always been a piece of cake. One sunshiny day in the Metrocity prison, he found the Warden's car and couldn't help himself. He just had to know how it worked so he took it apart, piece by piece. Boy was the Warden mad! That was how he'd gotten himself put into solitary confinement for the first time when he was six years old. Ah, you just couldn't buy memories like that!

"That's kind of a long story, which I will reveal soon," he said, slamming the hood closed.

"Oh, um. Okay, Sir. Whatever you say." Minion thought Sir hadn't heard him. He was being very cryptic. Not that Minion wasn't used to it. Sometimes Sir's brain would be hours ahead of real time and deciphering anything he said had really taken a lot of practice through the years. Mostly though, he just gave up and waited for Sir to slow down before asking anymore questions.

"Since this is a copy of the movie car, do I have to get up to 88 miles per hour to go back in time?" he asked dryly, claiming the driver's seat again.

Minion chuckled. "No, Sir designed it to vanish on the spot after you plug in the temporal coordinates you want, but what's the fun in that right?"

"Then it _will_ vanish while being driven too?"

Minion's little chest swelled with pride. "Yep. You really thought of everything."

"That sounds like me," Megamind agreed, running his hands longingly over the gray upholstery. "So, do you think I'd mind if I took the car out for a little spin?"

"Uh…" Minion was still having trouble differentiating between Megamind's references to himself and to Mr. Scott. "Oh! Yeah, Sir's kind of possessive of his stuff. Security risks and all that. Other inventors have been trying to steal from him ever since he built his first computer when he was five. When he finds out that someone else has seen all of this, he's going to freak out."

"Oh, come on! It's not like I'm going to go park it in Steve Jobs's driveway," he pouted, folding his arms across his chest sullenly.

"Of course not, Sir. You'll just have to ask Mr. Scott."

"Will I believe me?"

Minion lowered his gaze as thought. "He _should_ believe you because there's no reason not to, but it'll take a little convincing. A lot of convincing actually."

"I can be persuasive, especially with myself," he said with puffed-up confidence.

Minion wasn't so sure. They might essentially have the same brain, the same intelligence and were arguably the same person, but they didn't think exactly alike. First he would definitely freak out and even though he was a nervous person by nature, he'd eventually calm down and then would probably activate the anesthesin gas to knock Megamind out. There was nothing more important to him than his inventions and he would do whatever was necessary to safeguard them from hackers and thieves.

"So?" he said, slamming the door closed. "When will I be coming back home?"

Minion blinked. "You can't come back home until the binky is inserted into the DeLorean."

"No, no, no! I mean when is the other me coming back from this conference thing?"

"Okay, first things first!" Minion cried, having had enough. "You've got to stop referring to him as you and you as him. It's really confusing."

"What else should I call him? We're virtually identical except for a few temporal variances."

"His name is Wayne Scott. Try calling him that."

"Ugh! Even though we're at a truce now, I still really hate Music Man's alias!"

Minion waited to see if this peculiarity would be explained, and it wasn't of course. He rolled his eyes and added the "Music Man" reference to his list of weirdness to ask Sir about later.

"Well, Sir isn't scheduled to come back for at least another week."

Megamind rubbed his forehead, feeling a small ache emerge between his eyes. "I don't have another week. I really don't have another day. Getting home now is imperative. Repairing the time machine will take too long as will the dismantling of the de-gun to get the binky copy out. But it looks like I don't have any other choice." He leaned against the car, shoulders sagging as he felt the lack of sleep finally begin to catch up to him.

Minion hated to see Sir so upset even though he technically wasn't the right alien. He wondered now as he looked at the blue alien pacing back and forth beside the car at just how many more differences rested between the two realities. This Sir definitely seemed sure of himself and hadn't broken out in hives once, which was a common ailment for the alien when he was very anxious. He seemed better situated in the other reality and had a woman that loved him. If changing the past restored Sir's life to how it was supposed to be, then by golly was Minion going to help him do it.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Minion?" he asked tiredly.

"I'll call Mr. Scott and tell him to come home early."

"Will he listen to you? I thought he was supposed to be at this conference thing?"

"Oh, he'll listen to me. He hates those conferences anyway and would jump at the chance to bail early."

"What will get him to come home?"

"Don't worry about that, Sir. I'll think of something."

"Thanks, Minion."

Megamind looked around the sub-basement and thought of the advanced lab above. It would have been every inventor's dream to own such expensive equipment. It definitely would have made his e-vil plans a lot more e-vil. How he wished he'd thought to clone himself, but then pushed that e-vil thought away. It was wrong to consider how many awesomely villainously bad things his extensive blue matter could produce. That familiar saying "old habits die hard" had become a catchphrase of his lately. A lot.

"Even though his name is _Wayne Scott_—"He said the name with a sneer—"his lab is definitely impressive. I didn't benefit from having wealthy parents. You had to scrape together to find parts for all of my genius creations while I was in prison."

Minion's eyes bugged out. "PRISON!" he bellowed, sending a massive surge of bubbles streaming through the tank.

Megamind laughed nervously. "Yeah, I guess it's going to be sooner rather than later for the tale about what makes my upbringing so different from his."

Minion suggested that they go to bed soon, much to Megamind's annoyance. There was still a lot left in the lab that he hadn't gotten to play with. His fish friend, however, was unrelenting in his quest to get Sir a good night's sleep and blatantly ignored Megamind's protestations about being able to go for four days without sleep. There were fourteen more hours left to accomplish whatever he felt like before sleep became a requirement. Minion glared at him so he hurried up the steps. He waited until Sir crossed the threshold into the room above before pressing a switch in his tank to turn off the lights and then swam back up to the lab. Megamind waited with his arms folded, a clear sign of irritation at being told what to do. Minion always had the same problem with Sir and his alternate reality twin was no different.

"You can still tell me about your reality—and about how you got yourself behind bars—"he said with a steely eye— "as you're getting ready for bed," Minion relented. He swam for the door that Megamind hadn't opened yet, but then spun sharply in the water. "When was the last time you ate?"

Megamind shrugged. "I don't know and I'm not hungry."

Minion sighed exasperatedly. "It looks like I'm going to have become _your_ guardian as well. You need to eat."

The next second, Minion had pressed another switch. Megamind jumped when a voice echoed around the lab.

"Yes, Mr. Minion?"

"Hello, Marg. How are you this evening?" he greeted courteously.

"Extremely well, thank you for asking," she answered just as courteously. "Did I hear the good news correctly? Is Mr. Scott really home already?"

"That he is and he's starving. He hasn't eaten since he left Paris and that was half a day ago. Can you whip up a sandwich for Sir please?"

"Of course. We'll bring it right down." The intercom clicked off.

"Wow. Fancy," he said appreciatively. "Perhaps I should install one of those in the bedroom for Roxanne."

Minion verbally ushered him to the door. "They'll knock on the door when it's ready. If the next few days are going to be anything like I think they'll be, then you need all the strength and rest you can get."

Megamind didn't argue with Minion anymore about turning in for the night. His mothering wasn't any different in this reality. He didn't mind though because it almost felt like he was home. Almost.

"Where do we sleep?"

Minion's toothy grin appeared again. "Well, if you're anything like Mr. Scott, then I think you're going to _love_ this. Follow me."

The fish tank disappeared into the wall next to the only other door in the lab, which presumably was the bedroom. He followed, which took a few minutes—the lab was vast. As he approached, he automatically reached for a door knob that was nowhere to be seen and patted the door looking for a switch of some kind, but found nothing. There was a panel affixed to the wall next to the door, likely a password-only entry of some kind.

"Oops!" he heard Minion say from the other side. The fish swam back into view and said, "Touch the panel and then lean forward so that the beam can scan your eyes. It should work since you have the same retinas."

He touched the screen, which flared to life and leaned over to allow the scanner to sweep a red beam over his eyes. The door opened automatically, sliding into a groove inside the wall. The lights turned on as soon as he entered the interior and his mouth fell open in gaping shock.

"Wow!" he breathed. "Every fanboy's dream!"

Megamind felt as though he stood on Tatooine—Luke Skywalker's home planet. Instead of drab white paint, the walls were decorated as a scene of the landscape from the desert planet. A soft light illuminated from within as though dusk had just settled on the horizon. The room was decorated with the standard movie memorabilia any fanboy would sell his mother to own. A life-sized Darth Vader stood guard next to the entry and the helmet was signed by none other than Mr. Lucas. On the walls hung numerous autographed pictures of himself—or the other himself—hobnobbing with the likes of Leonard Nimoy, Stephen Hawking, and…

"Who's Bobby Flay?"

Minion stared in surprise. "You've never heard of him?"

"No. Should I have?"

"He's a famous chef. Not that Sir's into cooking, but well…he got that picture for me. I'm a huge fan!" He smiled sadly. "I may not be able to get out of this tank and cook, but the Food Network is my favorite channel."

A massive computer desk housed yet more computers—the most of which gamer equipment. Alienware computers—ironic, he thought—headsets, gaming consoles and remotes were all crammed together on the large mahogany desktop surrounded by hundreds of neatly stacked discs of video games.

"Welcome home, Sir!" The unmistakable voice belonged not to Minion, but to the loveable droid C-3PO. He stared in amazement as the gold-plated droid ambled over to him and held out one hand. "May I take your cape, Sir?"

Wordlessly, he undid the clasp and handed over the high-collared cape to the loyal servant of Jedis. Meanwhile, Minion was chuckling quietly to himself, truly enjoying Sir's reaction to Mr. Scott's toys. Megamind raised a gloved finger to point at the droid, who was hanging the cape up in a closet.

"Did I invent that?" He asked, unable to tear his eyes off the walking technology in front of him.

"Yes and no. He's a movie prop that you installed with artificial intelligence."

"Whoa! How cool am I?"

Then he noticed the bed, which gave new meaning to the definition of bunk bed. He ran over to the ladder and climbed into the enormous X-Wing fighter. Instead of a pilot's chair, there was a mattress covered in black sheets with a star pattern. He threw himself onto the remarkable bed and crossed his arms behind his head.

"This is just…wow!" He smiled giddily. "I really must talk to Roxanne about redecorating our bedroom!"

"Don't fall asleep yet, Sir. Marg will be bringing your dinner down to you shortly," reminded Minion.

Megamind peered over the edge of the bed to look at his friend getting ready to settle in for the night. His tube-shaped tank came to end in this room in the form of an enormous square that stretched from floor to ceiling. Colorful rocks covered the bottom and surrounded an equally colorful fishy habitat. There was a castle, but its size put the standard fish tank decoration to shame as its mansion design was comparable to a fairytale castle. Tiny lights dotted the turrets and the eaves, illuminating the gently moving currents as they weaved over the castle. There were other smaller and unimpressive non-talking fish casually swimming in and out of the castle.

As his stomach growled, he realized that he actually was hungry. Roxanne had been on the way to the kitchen to make them breakfast when the discovery of the time machine had stopped his chance to refuel his body. Even though everything happened such a short time ago, it still felt like it had been a long time since he'd been home. He laid his head on the pillow, but then raised it again as a thought occurred to him.

"When is the last time you ate, Minion?" he asked worried that his unexpected arrival had forgone his friend's normal routines. "Do you need to me provide you with any fish flakes?"

The fish laughed in response. "Nope. Unlike the average tank-dwelling organism, I can feed myself thank you very much."

Megamind watched as Minion pushed another of the impressive switches, which activated a small humming noise. A chute attached to the roof of the tank opened and little flakes drifted through the water. Minion swam up to retrieve them and munched happily while Megamind observed. None of these setups would have been possible for him to create without the aid of ample monetary assets. Not that Megamind and Minion had been poor. They had various offshore accounts, which had greatly benefited them during their Era of E-vil.

"So how does _Wayne_ pay for all of this?" he asked interestedly.

Through the crunching of his flakes, Minion said, "The Scotts are in oil."

"No wonder Music Man's shrine to himself is so posh," he mused. "He's loaded!"

Minion swallowed and before chomping on another flake that drifted past his face asked, "Who's Music Man?"

Megamind attempted a condensed version of his world while retelling it to Minion as he munched on his double-decker turkey club, but there was so much of it to tell. He never realized there was enough to fill a book. He went through everything , didn't lie once—mostly because Minion was very adept at figuring out when he was lying—always had been, that shrewd little fish. He was shocked certainly to learn that Megamind had been raised in a prison and was outraged, but not for the obvious reasons. He'd been upset that the city would let a child be raised in a prison at all. Megamind wasn't too bothered by it anymore. The Warden had placed him in an orphanage with the hopes that someone would take pity on the alien child and adopt him, but no one had ever shown the slightest interest. Who wanted to raise an extraterrestrial with a giant blue dome capable of computing complex equations by the age of nine days old? He was a freak to society, who had been intent on fearing him from the beginning. Conspiracy nuts theorized that he'd been sent to earth as part of a diabolical plot to invade, colonize and conquer the human species.

In the orphanage, he had never gotten along with the other children just as he hadn't gotten along with the shool children. They bullied and teased him and whenever anything went missing or came up broken, all fingers pointed to him. In true e-vil fashion—because that's what he believed was his destiny—he snuck into the kitchen one late night and laced all the milk with castor oil that he'd secretly ordered through the mail. Since he was the only person in the whole orphanage's population that wasn't puking their guts up, they shipped him back to the prison that same day.

Looking back, he knew his childhood had shaped him into the supervillain of the century, but he wouldn't be who he was now were it not for those experiences and after seeing what life was like for the Wayne Scott version of himself, he'd do childhood in a prison all over again. At least he had Roxanne. Wayne didn't really have anybody.

The best part was the look on Minion's face as he listened to Megamind describe the mechanical ape suit his alter ego walked around in.

"You mean…I have arms…and _legs_?"

"Yep and you do the laundry, you make the best crème brulèe I've ever had, go for walks in the park on sunny days…whatever you want, you do it."

"I can walk around all by myself?" he whispered.

"Uh huh and since your suit's robotic, you can easily lift heavy objects—like a car for example, which was a great help during my years of masterminded villainy."

"How can I control it?" he asked, barely able to contain his eagerness to hear more about the ape suit.

"That was a little tricky, but nothing yours truly couldn't handle. There's a small antenna superficially attached here," he said, pointing to the back of his ample cranium. "Much like the human brain sends signals through the nerves to the body, the antenna is set to a frequency that only your ichthyoid brain produces, which sends signals to the appendages in the suit. This gives you control of the entire body."

Minion's lip trembled. "You did that for me, Sir?"

Megamind lowered his eyes and shrugged as an embarrassing purple blush pooled in his cheeks. "Well, you are my best friend after all and I mean what good is a villainous henchman who can't run errands for his brilliant overlord?" He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Minion grinned happily at Sir, but managed to control his emotions. "It's getting late, Sir. We should probably call it a night."

"And you'll call me tomorrow—I mean, call Wayne tomorrow and tell him to come home?"

"As soon as I get up, Sir. The sooner we get you home the better." Minion's eyes were droopy, but a needling thought wouldn't leave him alone. "So…this Metro Man…" he began cautiously. "He's really that good of a guy?"

Megamind used the sneer he saved just for the references to Metro Man. "Well, one could argue that I suppose, given that he was the hero for so long. But what the rest of the populous doesn't know is that he wasn't so nice in elementary shool. Bit of a bully and the ringleader of all the teasing. Yeah, I could tell Metrocity stories that would destroy his carefully carved image, but _I _would never do that because I am a hero with class."

When Minion said nothing further about Metro Man, Megamind got suspicious. He realized that he hadn't even contemplated where Scott's escape pod had landed in this reality. "Minion, is there a Metro Man in this world?"

Minion pursed his lips, worriedly looking at Sir. "There is a guy like that…but he's…lemme just show you."

He pushed another switch and the 60" plasma flared to life. Minion had his own remote control and hurriedly punched the right channel.

"What are you looking for?"

"Channel 8 news. There was a story on earlier today and they always repeat the broadcast at midnight."

"And what will we see?"

He gasped when Roxanne's face appeared larger than life on screen. He scrambled to the tip of the X-Wing bed to see her better, but went too far and toppled over. He stumbled to his feet and limped as close to the screen as he could. With the aid of the clear plasma screen, she was more gorgeous than ever. She looked much the same except that her hair was longer. The wavy brown tendrils rested just above her shoulders.

"Roxanne," he whispered, touching the screen longingly where her lips were just beginning the evening report.

"Good afternoon, Metro City," she said solemnly. "We've been following a developing story for quite some time now that has become a continuous thread of violence and tragedy. Once the thriving town of tomorrow and one-time winner of the Best Places to Live Award over two decades ago, Metro City has fallen into disrepair, earned the highest unemployment rate and has climbed to the top spot for the worst criminal activity in the Nation." She looked down for a second, sadness creeping into her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked even though she couldn't hear him.

It was startling to see her confidence waver and the melahncoly etched into every feature of her entire body. Her normally self-assured posture was weighted down as though she carried something heavy, but her arms remained empty. The upbeat tone of her voice had been replaced by a distanced tone he was unfamiliar with. In fact, she looked now as she had the day Tighten had held her hostage on top of Metro Tower—defeated and hopeless. Megamind couldn't stand another minute of this and looked away, fists balling at his sides. What had done this to her?

"As you all know," she continued to her viewers, looking into the camera again, "For the first time ever, I am about to interview the most dangerous criminal to ever walk our streets. Mayhem Man."

The camera panned away from Roxanne to a hulking figure that had been standing just off screen. Megamind's eyes widened.

"Oh, no," he murmured.

There was Metro Man looking opposite the rival he'd grown up with. The perfectly coifed hero hair was slicked back with greasy oil and a five o'clock shadow covered his square jaw all the way down his meaty neck. Instead of the customary white tights, he wore all black with a big silver M on the front of the tee-shirt. That wasn't the worst of it though.

The good guy smirk had been replaced with a hard-edged glare that pulled his dark eyebrows together in a deep scowl. His nostrils flared up in an evil sneer that Megamind had never been able to pull off convincingly. Metro—or Mayhem Man—had folded his arms across his broad chest, which looked like two trees coming out of his shoulders. Though it couldn't have been possible, somehow he looked bigger as he towered over Roxanne with a look on his face that sent chills down Megamind's spine.

"We're here today with Mayhem Man, who has agreed to speak with me to a live audience."

He winked at her. "Hey, Roxi. You're looking good enough to maul this evening."

She made no comment. "We all know your story about how you were raised in a prison and—"

"—And about how I tore that prison down brick by brick on my seventh birthday," he rudely interrupted with a leer at the camera.

"As I was saying…" Roxanne continued, face passive. "You chose a life of crime and have been terrorizing our city for nearly twenty years. To what end?"

The big oaf looked confused. "The end of what?"

"What is your ultimate goal?" she repeated slowly, as though addressing a child.

"Who says I have a goal?" he countered.

"Answer the question, _Mayhem Man_," she ground out, voice rising in volume. "You rob our citizens. Your criminal activities have closed the majority of the businesses. You send out your fellow prison goons to prey on the helpless victims who are simply minding their own business."

"Your point?" he asked, looking bored already.

"Metro City is in serious trouble. In fact, some of the buildings are actually falling down around us—no doubt given an extra shove by you. How can you continue to hurt these good and honest people?"

He laughed, which was nearly as cold as the hatred in his face. "What else is there to do?"

"Don't you feel any remorse for what you've done?" she questioned, shoving the microphone under his nose, but he didn't flinch.

"No," he said simply.

"After you destroy the city, then what?"

He shrugged. "There are cities to the north, south, east and west. I'll just take my pick."

Roxanne's back stiffened as she moved the microphone back to her mouth. "And what of the deaths?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Roxi."

"People have died due to terrible freeway accidents that were not, in this reporter's opinion—"

"I don't really care about _your_ opinion or anyone else's," he interrupted sharply again.

"That in _this_ reporter's opinion was no accident at all," she continued despite the fact that Mayhem Man's body was quivering with obviously suppressed anger.

"Roxanne, don't!" yelled Megamind, forgetting that she couldn't hear his warning and that this was a previously recorded report.

"And in the last month alone," she forged ahead, "three fatalities occurred during various muggings. Then there was that explosion at the power plant, which left us without power for one month and in which plant workers were also killed. Low income families rely on that power just to make it through the day. Hospitals rely on that power to keep the patients from dying."

"Accidents happen," he said, feigning innocence. "It isn't my fault that—"

"It is too your fault," she whispered. "You killed those good people."

"Ex_cuse_ me?"

"You heard me," she said bravely, looking him dead in the eye.

He leaned down to her level, bringing his face too close and stopped short of bumping her nose. "Prove it."

"Eyewitness accounts, videos and even photographs show your presence at every one of these events."

He didn't look the least bit worried. "Fine, but what are you going to do about it?"

When Roxanne said nothing further because there was nothing she could say, he grinned with smug triumph. "You _can't_ do anything because I don't have _any_ weaknesses." He looked at the camera and grabbed her hand, which still held the microphone. She winced, but remained stoically quiet. "None of you can do anything. This town is mine and there's no one who can stop me."

Then he shot up into the air like a bullet, leaving a shaken, but still unwavering reporter behind. She quietly faced the camera, eyes still raised to the sky, but then she lowered them even with the lens. A fierce determination radiated all around her face when she opened her mouth to speak at last.

"Citizens of Metro City, I know that I'm asking too much, but we need each other's help. This is our home and it's time we took it back from childish bullies like Mayhem Man. I am going to do whatever is humanly possible to save this city." She paused. "Is anyone willing to help me?"

Megamind was out the door, ignoring Minion's desperate cries for him to come back. If seeing Roxanne was going to create a cataclysmic paradox, so be it. He was going to talk to her. Tonight.

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. It always helps to know that you really like it. I put that brief part in there about how Minion's ape body works because even though it looked a little funny to me the first time I saw the movie, I still thought it was fascinating. That little antenna wasn't there when he and Megamind were sent to Earth. It's obviously another genius invention of Megamind's. Roxanne is finally going to show up in the next chapter, and who knows who else? You know, it seems like more than one author has referenced the story **_**Bad to Be Good **_**by Dragon's Lover1. We're all really hating on Metro Man aren't we? I just don't like him very much and I have no problem writing him or reading him as the villain. Not that he's a bad guy, but come on, this is Megamind that we all fell in love with wasn't it? **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: It's Mega-wrong

"Does this public transportation vehicle go to 37th and Main, Taxi Boy?"

Megamind stood by the driver side of a Metrocity Transit Taxi, looking down his nose at the taxi driver who wordlessly looked the alien up and down.

"Uh…yeah. It's only about a block away in that direction," he said, pointing through the windshield.

"Lucky for you," Megamind said, menacingly arching an eyebrow. He slid into the back seat, swishing his cape onto the seat dramatically and crossed both his arms and legs with equal dramatic panache. The taxi didn't accelerate because the driver had yet to shift out of park. He was still staring curiously into the rearview mirror at his unusual passenger. Megamind leaned forward slightly toward the bewildered city servant.

"Step on it!" he barked, impatient to be on his way to see Roxanne.

"Sure, uh, whatever you say, Mr. Scott," he said, finally putting the cab into gear.

Megamind made a grating sound in his throat. It would be worth leaving this reality just to stop hearing himself addressed as Wayne Scott. He absolutely detested _that_ name.

The ride was uneventful and took less than five minutes to arrive at his intended destination. During that brief time, Megamind was able to observe a city that was very different from the one he lived in. Roxanne's news report hadn't done the destruction justice. Buildings were splattered with graffiti and the bricks were crumbling away. The plethora of skyscrapers he was so used to seeing were either cut in half—likely by laser vision—or lying in a pile of rubble. Where there had once been glass was now covered by sheets of plywood. Many of the businesses looked as though they had been standing empty for a very long time. Dark alleys were home to vagabonds and various other shady characters shuffling along in the black. Abandoned cars were peppered with bullet holes. A volley of rats crossed the street ahead while the breeze blew uncollected litter all over the roads and sidewalks.

Notwithstanding the fire truck in the side of the building and the public defacing of City Hall, and various other deeds of wicked bedlam, not even he had been _that_ destructive when he was the overlord of the city. Well…maybe just a little. He wouldn't have been a proper overlord if he hadn't caused chaos in some form or the other. At least he had never killed any innocent bystanders. No, Metro Man—Mayhem Man—_whatever_—could definitely claim that atrocity as his own. Oh, he was most definitely holding this over Mr. Goody Two-Shoes' head when he got back to his timeline. He'd never trusted that superhero hairline anyway.

The taxi pulled up to the curb outside Roxanne's building. At least, he hoped it was still her apartment. He got out, slamming the door behind him and went around to the driver's window. He produced a $100 bill from his snug leather pants and thrust it under the driver's nose, whose eyes bugged at the sight of the large bill. "You'll have to break it because I don't have anything smaller than that."

"Uh…" The taxi driver managed to say nothing intellectually stimulating at all and fumbled around trying to make the correct change, which Megamind had already calculated in less than .06 seconds, which was hardly a calculation worthy of his colossal brainpower.

"$94.08!" he shouted.

The driver continued fumbling with the money and had trouble separating the bills, which kept slipping between his dry, callused fingers. Megamind tapped his boot against the chipped pavement as the man finally shoved a wad of cash into his hands. The quarrel wasn't with the taxi boy, but he wasn't in the mood to be the benevolent good guy at the moment. Watching Roxanne nearly get pummeled by that over-stuffed buffoon had frightened him more than he would admit so he figured he could be in as testy of a mood as he pleased.

After the taxi pulled away and left a plume of exhaust in his face, he took notice of the building, which wasn't in as terrible of condition as the others surrounding it. The high rise looked more or less, mostly less, like what he was expecting considering the shambles the rest of the structures were in. It wasn't nearly as impressive as he remembered. A siren wailed in the distance, but was cut short and rapidly followed by screeching tires and a loud crash—a clear sign that Mayhem Man was prowling the darkened streets.

What was he going to say if he saw her face to face? She'd definitely think his time travel story was insane. The truth was clearly not an option, but he couldn't lie to her and he really didn't want to. His true purpose in coming here was just to check on her. Seeing that she was safe from Mayhem Man's wrath was an all-consuming obsession that would continue to burn until he saw her in person.

He approached the glass doors automatically expecting to see Roxanne's old doorman Carlos, but there wasn't anyone around. The doors were locked, but that was barely an obstacle for Megamind. Besides being a brilliant creator of impressive technological marvels, he'd also mastered the craft of picking a lock and had frequently utilized it while in prison—a skill worthy of any devilishly handsome villain. In barely three seconds he was inside and hurried towards the elevators. He pressed the button for the 30th floor and the elevator creaked and moaned its way to the top.

A quick glance at his watch confirmed it was two minutes after 12:30 and more than likely, Roxanne was asleep—if she was even in the apartment at all. She could be a little cranky sometimes when deprived of her slumber, especially when he had scheduled middle-of-the-night kidnappings. So in all probability, she'd be none too pleased to see him standing outside of her door.

He raised his hand hesitantly, finger hovering centimeters away from pressing the doorbell. He'd been positively dying to see her and all that stood between them was a door two inches thick. What would she think? Would she agree to talk to him? Or would she call the cops on him for making a midnight visit? What if he couldn't help himself and tackled her, showering her with kisses? He smirked, knowing he'd get a punch to his face because she'd done that once before when Minion had been too lenient on how tight the ropes were. Firmly, he pressed the doorbell. If he was going to get a black eye, he'd rather it was Roxanne that gave it to him than anyone else in the world.

He didn't have to wait long. Soft, but hesitant footsteps slowly approached the door and he expectantly stared into the peep hole, praying it was Roxanne looking at him from the other side. The sound of locks unlatching stirred his heart. He held his breath as the door partially opened, held in check by the gold chain.

A sliver of her beautiful sleepy face and adorably rumpled hair were visible. The chain on the door barred him from seeing any more, but he was content nevertheless at just being able to see for himself that she was all right. Roxanne, however, didn't appear too happy to see him standing in her hallway.

She had almost been asleep after tossing and turning for the past hour and it would have been the first night this week that she had managed to get any. That wasn't going to happen now since that blue-domed twerp had come calling in the middle of the night.

Her blue eyes shot daggers at him and her pert little nose flared with irritation. "Seriously? This is how you choose to contact me after all this time? It's 12:30am."

Long hair. Short hair. It didn't matter. She was _so_ beautiful when she was mad even when it was at him. And absolutely breathtaking in a ratty pink robe and hair so tangled in its ponytail that she looked like she'd been rolling around on the floor.

"Roxanne?" Was it possible that they already knew each other? How could it be considering the reclusiveness Minion had described earlier?

She snorted. "No! I'm the Wicked Witch of the West who's very cranky due to being woken up in the middle of the night, Rich Boy. Go away and come back during normal people hours."

He managed to wedge a boot in the door before she closed it. Each painful push against it was also against his foot, but she was unable to shut him out. He leaned forward expectantly.

"Roxanne, you really _do_ know who I am?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know for a genius, Wayne, you're not too bright. As I was saying, good night!" She pushed against the door harder, but he squeezed into the small sliver, the chain pressing against his neck.

"Ow!" he said, choking when the chain dug against his windpipe.

"What is the matter with you?" she cried, taking a step away from the door.

"Roxanne, I need to talk to you!" He felt the beginnings of déjà vu creeping into his mind as he thought of a moment jarringly similar to this one. History was repeating itself. Sort of.

"Are you crazy? It's the middle of the night! Now kindly remove your person from my door before I Tase something," she threatened, reaching for something beyond his vision.

He didn't know what he was going to say, but…he just couldn't stand being away from her any longer. "I'm sorry." He reached through the small opening to grasp her outstretched shoulder, effectively stopping her from grabbing the presumable Taser. "Please, Roxanne. I wouldn't have come if it wasn't really important."

She glanced down at his hand in shock, mouth forming a little 'O' and then slowly she raised her eyes to meet his gaze. The anger had left her face when he touched her, igniting a flare of hope in his chest.

"Um…fine. Move and let me undo the chain." He immediately complied and waited patiently for her to grant him entry. When the door opened a second time, she held up a finger in warning. "Fifteen minutes. Not a second more."

"Of course!"

Only a small lamp by her couch was on and the small illumination revealed that the apartment was a little run down and full of cracks in the ceiling and windows, peeling paint and shabby furniture, which wasn't surprising considering the state of the entire city, otherwise, it was just as neat and clean as he remembered. During his perusal of her apartment, she got a better glimpse of the uninvited alien. Just what was going on? And why was he dressed like _that_? Maybe they were his nerd boy pajamas. The spikes couldn't have been very comfortable to sleep on, but didn't all abnormally intelligent people have freaky fetishes?

Megamind was acutely aware that the only sound he could hear was his breathing. He looked at Roxanne who'd already locked the door behind them and now stared at him in amusement.

"Nice spikes. Did you just come from a KISS concert?"

He made a cough of derision. "KISS? _That's _not rock music. They parade around in those ridiculous attention-seeking getups whereas my attire is modestly tasteful."

She ran her eyes from the tips of his boots to the top of his cape. "Right. There's nothing ridiculous about a grown man parading around in a cape and tights at all."

"Clearly you know nothing of fashion, Ms. Ritchi, as you have failed to notice the difference between spandex and leather for I am wearing the latter in black, not the former in tights." To emphasize his rightness, he wiggled his gloved fingers to produce the creaking sound only leather could make.

"Whatever. My mistake. What do you want?" she asked all with one breath.

"Uh…" _How _was he supposed to start this? _"Roxanne, I'm from another timeline where everything is completely opposite from what you know and by the way we're married too." _Saying it over and over in his head didn't make it sound any better.

Roxanne folded her arms, tapping an irritated index finger against her sleeve. "Since you're obviously at a loss for words, then let me ask you something."

He brightened. Anything to give him time to come up with something! "Ask away. Anything you want."

"Why, after I left a message for you to call me back three years ago to discuss something very important, are you just now returning it? In the middle of the night no less?"

Anything except that! How was he supposed to know? Unless she had contacted Wayne Scott for an interview only to be turned down—or possibly ignored considering his counterpart's bowel issues caused by the opposite sex. Lying wasn't the right thing to do, but he didn't have to tell her the truth yet. Until that moment came, however, he could just wing it. Improvisation was another of the millions of skills he had achieved with perfection.

He shrugged. "I'm an alien."

"Wow! And you just now figured that out? Clearly no one has told you that being born a genius doesn't necessarily mean you'll be born with common sense enough to know what species you are."

"You don't know as much as you think you do, Miss Smarty Reporter Pants." He simply _loved _calling her that.

"And that's the pot calling the kettle _blue_."

He smirked. "Good one. I was going to say that as an alien, my biological makeup is far different and even more superior compared to humans. I can go for days without rest so your slumber schedule isn't really my concern. I have a free moment to talk _now_."

Her eyebrows drew together in a dark V—a clear sign that he had irritated her with success. Unintentional as it may have been. They'd fallen into their routine with such ease. It felt like the old days. Old days that she didn't know, but how odd that their bantering was still present regardless of the timeline. He hadn't intended to engage her in witty repartee, but maybe it would help his fifteen minutes—and possibly his last time with her—last longer.

She clapped her hands together to bring him out of his brief reverie. If he was just going to stand there with that dumb look on his face when she could be getting some sleep for a change, then he could just get out.

"So! This conversation was clearly worth getting up in the middle of the night for." With practiced fingers, she had the door unlocked in less than four seconds and pointed into the dark hallway. "You have my work number. Call me in the morning. Good night!"

Megamind didn't move. "Roxanne, I saw your interview with Met—uh. Mayhem Man."

The door remained open. "Good for you. Now please get out."

"That's why I came by," he said hastily, unwilling to move any closer to the door.

She sighed in frustration, closing it again. Clearly, she wasn't going to get rid of him anytime soon. He sighed in relief that he was allowed to stay a little longer.

"So the cave-dweller pays attention to the news after all," she quipped, latching the chain and twisting all the knobs on the five locks to secure them inside. She gave the doorknob a shake, testing its hold against possible intruders. He didn't remember there being that many deadbolts on the door. Mayhem Man's doing no doubt.

"As a matter of fact, I do and…don't get me wrong…" He held out two hands in apology. "What you did was brave. Confronting him the way you did, but—"

"It wasn't bravery. I was angry. Fed up." She interrupted, plopping down onto the couch.

"But it was stupid," he finished, steeling himself for the verbal assault about to take flight from her mouth.

"_Excuse me_?" she said dangerously, rising slowly back to her feet, fists balled at her sides.

"He looked mad enough to punch you, which would have killed you!" he argued logically.

Roxanne couldn't believe what she was hearing. Why would the brilliant and yet somehow brainless Wayne Scott come over to her apartment in the middle of the night to call her stupid? Aside from the spike fetish, his enormous intelligence had also driven him crazy.

"This is why you barged in here after hours?" she snapped.

"No. Yes. Roxanne, I'm—"

"We don't even know each other and you talk like you're just a friend looking out for me. You don't know the first thing about my life."

_Au contraire_. "Well, then how do you know me?" he asked, a little confused.

She stared. "Brilliance _does_ equal insanity in your case. You're Wayne Scott. Every computer in my office uses your software and your computers, not to mention the rest of the world. Who doesn't know you?"

"Oh," he mumbled quietly, disappointment flooding through him. He'd been hoping that Wayne Scott and the alternate Roxanne might have had something akin to friendship. Minion's descriptions of his socially awkward alter ego had been entirely accurate. He just hadn't really been listening to his friend.

"This entire world is wrong," he said bleakly.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She glanced at the cordless phone next to the lamp, wondering if she should call the police, or better yet, the loony bin. As she reached for the phone, she happened to give him a second glance. He stared at nothing in particular, but his entire body seemed to deflate. When he finally looked into her eyes, she was shocked to see the depth of his entire soul staring right back at her from a pair of the brightest green eyes she'd ever seen. He _cared_ about _her _and didn't have to utter one word. She knew it, _felt _it. As a reporter, it was her job to read body language and how to tell when someone was nervous or hiding something.

In that moment, he hid nothing from her. Vulnerability made him appear smaller when he folded his arms across his chest as though he were trying to protect himself. He shifted his gaze to the floor, but it was too late. She'd already seen the dejection pouring out of those bright green orbs that were openly telling her something she wasn't sure she wanted to know after all. How could he possibly care so much about her when they'd never met before tonight? That was the big question.

"And just why exactly do you care whether he kills me or not?" she demanded quietly, voicing her raging thoughts.

Then he blinked, as though her voice had shattered the glass surrounding him. Whatever she'd seen was gone, replaced by a mask he wore with obvious skill. He lowered his arms to his sides, one hand coming to rest on the hilt of what looked like a toy ray gun.

Megamind opened and closed his mouth just as he was about to say, "_Because I love you, that's why!_" Instead he took a deep breath, finally getting a handle on his nerves and calmly walked to the door. "I shouldn't have come so late, Roxanne. It was rude. I—I won't bother you anymore."

This was _insane._ They were married. They were happy. But that was another lifetime and he was trapped in a world that was too similar to his past. He felt like he was caught in the rain watching her walk away, rejecting him all over again. He had to get out of here.

She pushed the door closed when he tried opening it. "Wait. You came here to talk so we're going to talk."

"But, you're tired," he protested weakly.

"I'm always tired." She locked the door for the third time, went over to the breakfast bar in her kitchen and climbed onto a barstool. She crossed her legs and sat back, looking like a reporter about interview her guest. "Sit." She gestured to the empty stool next to her.

Megamind approached the stool with little enthusiasm. The thrill of seeing her hadn't worn off, but she wasn't _his_ Roxanne. He couldn't tell her he loved her nor could he kiss her. He should have listened to his own warnings about interaction with people in this timeline. The world hadn't spontaneously exploded around them, but it felt like a cataclysmic paradox had just taken place in his head. He pushed his cape out of the way to sit down and looked blankly back at Roxanne.

"Shoot," she prompted.

"Um…" He was having difficulty constructing coherent thoughts into coherent sentences. This happened sometimes when he was under extreme duress, but Minion had always been able to keep him on track. Minion wasn't here though. "Mayhem Man?"

"Yes," she replied. "What about him?"

"He's, uh…deadly?" Why was he saying it in the form of a question? Pull yourself together!

"Oh, really? I didn't know," she deadpanned.

"Roxanne…" Her name was easy enough. "Please. Don't pick a fight," he begged, automatically laying a hand on top of hers where it rested on the Formica countertop. "Please stay away from him." He had enough to worry about trying to get home. Worrying about her safety on top of everything else would probably drive him over the edge.

She was watching his hand as it came to rest on top of hers, but then quietly slid it out and rested her hands on top of her knee. "I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself just fine."

_Didn't he know it!_ "Yes, you've always been so strong." He glanced at the countertop, missing the strange look she gave him after having said that. "However, he is stronger. Literally. And dangerous and stupid, which is a frightening combination. Promise me that you'll think twice before provoking him."

"Someone has to provoke him, to stand up to him."

"Agreed. But…let someone else do it," he persisted.

"There isn't anyone else," she said bitterly, jumping off the chair.

"I doubt that. This city has over nine million in population."

"You obviously haven't looked up the demographics lately."

"What do you mean?"

"Since Mayhem Man started terrorizing Metro City almost twenty years ago the population has decreased every year to barely one million." She approached her balcony doors, staring wistfully at the darkened skyscrapers and pressed her palm to the glass. "We went from nearly ten million people down to one million. Can you even comprehend what that means?"

"Of course. The property values are so low that no one will want to move here. Couple that with the crime rate and the—"

"It means this city is dying, Wayne." She looked over her shoulder at him. He flinched to see the hatred burning in her face. "And _you_ won't do one thing to help it," she said, words burning with acid.

"Me?"

"Yes, you! Why do you think I've been trying to get you to meet with me all these years?" Slowly, she stalked up to him like a tiger about to pounce. "You who hides in his mansion on the hilltop with enough money and power to help his fellow citizens, but doesn't lift a finger when we need him the most. The Scotts were always the benefactors of Metro City, but after Mayhem Man took over your entire family shut itself away from society to rest on their wealthy laurels while that big bully tore up the city from the inside out. You have created some of the most incredible inventions I've seen and heard of, but you've done nothing to save us. _That's_ why I wanted to talk to you. I love my city and I want to save it, but I can't do it by myself. Mayhem Man has to be stopped and it will take a genius to figure out how to do it."

Her chest rose and fell heavily from her unforgiving speech. He was lost for a moment in the way her hair framed her face, flushed red by anger. Her eyes sparkled with the intense love for her city and the desire to see it restored to its full glory.

"I've always loved your passhoon, Roxanne," he said without thinking.

"My _what?_" she asked skeptically.

"Uh…" he faltered. "Well, you know. It takes passhoon to achieve one's dreams and anyone can see that when you do a report on Metrocity."

The kind of look she gave him was the kind of look someone gave a crazy person that prattled nonsensically. He could have smacked himself. _This _Roxanne had no knowledge of his unique versions for certain words in the human vocabulary.

"I mean. Metro. City. And pa-ssion." Touching her was probably wrong, but couldn't stop himself each time he felt the compulsion to do so. He got down off the stool to join her by the glass doors and reached for her arm. "It's obvious from your reports that you are very pa-sshoo-nate about your home and that you care for it very much."

She was looking at his hand again, eyes thoughtful. This made the third time now that he had touched her as though he were accustomed to doing so. He was standing so close and looking at her with those big green eyes. Why was it that even though her arm was covered by a thick robe and his hand by a glove, did it feel like he'd just erased that barrier and connected with her bare skin? It was an unsettling sensation and she retreated back far enough away so he couldn't reach any part of her.

"And how would you know?"

"Because I watch your reports every day."

The shock on her face was evident. "You're kidding?"

"No, I've never missed any. Not one. You're the best reporter on television."

"Huh," she grunted, apparently annoyed even though he'd just paid her a compliment.

He knew that face so well. Even though his enormous genius didn't give him the ability to read minds—something else he currently experimented with—he could tell she was thinking very hard behind those inquisitive reporter eyes. His alter ego had evidently given Roxanne some preconceived notions about his character. If he had to resort to telling her the truth, convincing her of it was going to be no small feat.

"Roxanne?" he began softly. "What is it that you want me to do? Invent something to stop that meat-necked moron?"

She smirked. "You're the only one who could do it."

He laughed. Oh the irony! He'd spent so many waking hours looking for ways to destroy Metro Man and here he was in an alternate universe that had experienced an entirely different set of events, _still_ talking about destroying Metro Man. It just wouldn't leave him alone.

"What if I told you…" he said carefully. "That I've researched this topic already."

She quickly closed the gap between them, eyes burning with intensity. "You have? What did you find?"

He shrugged helplessly. "Nothing. He's completely impervious."

"But nothing is completely indestructible!" she protested heatedly. "Everything has a weakness. You just need to find the chink in his armor."

"And if I do that, then what? Kill him?"

"Duh! What did you think I wanted you to do? Shake his hand and thank him for the misery he's put us through? He's evil!"

This was a switch. He shook his head and idly wondered how many people had had the exact thoughts about him in the past…probably the entire population. Metro Man the bad guy? It was hard to believe, but the absurd truth was flying around outside right now raining terror on the masses below him. Mayhem Man versus Metro Man? They were still the same person weren't they? He didn't have to think too hard about that. No, they were two entirely different personas created by two different worlds and two lives. And anyway, he didn't want to stick around in this crazy timeline long enough to find a way to kill Mayhem Man. The first priority was to get home.

"I've researched every plausible idea and came up empty handed," he admitted honestly. "There is no weakness."

She growled in frustration. "That isn't fair!"

"It's not my fault!" he shouted back.

"You both arrived here on the same day from the same part of space," she continued. "What if there's a connection there somehow? Something you overlooked?"

With two skinny fingers, he pointed to his head. "Have you seen the size of this cranium? If there was a way to kill him, then I would have found it a long time ago. There are no radioactive meteorites. No Achilles heels. No spells to vanquish him. There's nothing."

She sat down hard on the arm of her couch, dejected. "I figured you'd say as much."

"I'm sorry, Roxanne," he apologized helplessly, feeling it was the right thing to say.

She closed her eyes, trying to recall the Metro City she remembered from her childhood, but this uglier, dirtier and deadlier city was too powerful a presence and it had melted away long ago. Just like her memories.

"I should apologize to _you_, Wayne," she amended. "It _isn't_ your fault. I guess I was just hoping for a miracle or something."

Megamind knew that the most important thing to him right now was to get back home to the life that had been erased by Minion's—okay, by _his_ doing. What needed to be done first was to get Wayne Scott on a plane back to Metrocity to relinquish his binky and the time machine before any more paradoxical cataclysms occurred.

It had only been 7 hours 12 minutes and 6 seconds since he'd arrived and just one visit with Roxanne had already broken his resolve. This _wasn't_ his Roxanne, but the lines were blurring the longer he stared at her heartbroken face. She needed a miracle. In other words, a _hero_ to save her beloved city and he wanted to be that man for her again.

She picked at a loose thread on the back of the sofa, frowning when it wouldn't come off. Of course there wasn't a way stop Mayhem Man. She'd known it from the beginning. The man was invulnerable and she had no doubt he'd make good on his word to bring the entire city down before moving onto the next until the entire world was in shambles. Why was everything so messed up? This was the only question she could think to ask. What was it Wayne had just said?

_This is entire world is wrong._

From her vantage point, it was the earth's destiny to be destroyed by a hostile alien. But…she didn't believe in destiny. If it was true, then every choice she'd ever made was predetermined. That did not sit well with this inquisitive reporter. She prided herself on the choices she'd made in life and when a mistake was made, she learned from them to make herself a better person.

Destruction couldn't be Metro City's fate could it? Over the last few years, she'd watched the city falling down around her and knew she daily put her life on the line by continuing to live here. But she hadn't been able to let go of it. It was her home. To leave it would feel like abandoning her family. That was why she had provoked Mayhem Man on live television and why she had issued a challenge to the city that it was time take back control of their lives.

Because Wayne was right. This world was wrong. Somehow she had to convince this brilliant inventor into helping her find a way to save the city.

The thread came out of the sofa at the same time her late night visitor laid a hesitant hand on top of hers. She stilled watching his fingers gently curl under hers. Each individual spike on the glove caught the glow from the lamp, sending a cascade of illuminated pinpricks across the sharp points. Funny…they didn't look so strange to her now. In fact, it seemed completely normal for him to be covered in spikes.

He did nothing else except hold her hand, but that one simple gesture unlocked a torrent of sensations that started in her fingertips and traveled through every nerve in her body right down to her toes. When she looked up, he was much closer than he'd been before, leaning forward with deliberate slowness. Her name was whispered softly, reverently and as though it was completely natural for her to do so, she tilted her head up knowing they were about to share a kiss and knowing she was even more than willing to let him. It suddenly didn't matter that she didn't know this man.

What did matter, however, was that this perfect moment suddenly took a nose dive after the muffled words drifted from the bedroom.

"Roxanne? Who are you talking to?"

_**A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner. I'm enrolled in 2 short and fast summer classes so I don't really have much time to devote to my story right now. This chapter was actually longer, but I decided to end it and go ahead and update, which means half of the next chapter is already written so maybe it'll be updated sooner. I also took a long time because I wanted to get their conversation right and I think I did that and I was also having difficulty tying a knot in their conversation because I just love it when Megamind and Roxanne are one-on-one. I hope y'all like it!**_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: It's Mega-curious

Roxanne jerked her hand away as though something had burned it and darted to her feet so fast that she stepped on Wayne's foot as she brushed past him in an attempt to get as much space between them as possible. She barely managed a mumbled apology and hurried to stand beside the balcony doors just as the living room was suddenly flooded with light.

She squinted as the brightness assailed her weary eyes. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized. "We didn't mean to wake you up."

"Isn't it a little late for visitors?" he asked crossly in a droning voice. "We both have to be up early tomorrow."

Megamind was still standing where Roxanne had left him, hand still sitting on the back of the couch and leaning awkwardly forward. He hadn't moved since that familiarly grating and boring voice had come flying out the bedroom to pierce his eardrums. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them wide to ensure he wasn't hallucinating.

There was a man standing in the doorframe of the bedroom, finger on the light switch. His mouth went dry as the man walked into the middle of the living room, coming to a stop by the coffee table while pushing thin wire-rimmed glasses onto his nose. He looked Megamind up and down with conceited coolness.

"Riiiiight…" he said, slowly dragging the word out. "What's Wayne Scott doing in our apartment in the middle of the night?" he asked, turning to Roxanne.

"Ber-naard?" he cried, looking at the messy haired, bespectacled man in shock. "Why did you come out of Roxanne's bedroom?"

"Uh, because I was asleep in a bed, which is _in_ the bedroom," he answered sarcastically.

"_Our_ apartment?" he repeated, wincing when his stomach started churning. "You live here with my—with Roxanne?"

Since Roxanne was standing behind his back now, Megamind missed the slightest shift of her gaze away from Bernard to him. Her reporter ears were specially trained to pick up everything out of the ordinary. She was certain he had nearly referred to her as _his_ Roxanne. Ever since he barged into their apartment in the wee hours of the morning, he'd acted like he'd known her forever. He'd touched her more than once as though he had been touching her forever. Everything about his behavior indicated they already knew each other well and thinking about just how well that might be was making her nervous. But she couldn't remember ever having met him before. Meeting a blue alien wasn't likely something she'd have forgotten.

"Husbands and wives tend to live together, genius," Bernard patronized. "Geez, I thought he was supposed to be smart," he whispered loudly to Roxanne.

_No…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…NO!_

"Oh, this can't be happening!" he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Megamind's stomach chose to suddenly convulse and he doubled over from the painful cramp. He placed his hands on his knees to steady himself as the blood drained from his head, which felt too light. The floor looked like it was weaving around and around in a circle. He reached out to grasp onto something solid to keep from falling and caught nothing but air.

"Why? This isn't—How could it—" he mumbled disjointedly. "I didn't—I never thought…married! Wasn't…I didn't expect…wrong, wrong, wrong!"

He'd never even considered the possibility that Roxanne would be married to someone else in this reality. It _shouldn't_ have surprised him because she was so wonderful and beautiful and absolutely perfect. But still, it was wrong! She wasn't supposed to be with anyone except him! _Bernard_? Ugh! And why did all of these strange ironies keep showing up to knock the wind out of his chest?

"What's wrong with him?" he heard that disdainfully dry voice say.

"I'll tell you what's wrong!" he shouted, raising his head up and then instantly regretting it. The room began spinning. "So dizzy."

With one hand still holding onto his head trying to calm the spinning, he continued waving around with the other, looking for anything to grab. And then something warm latched onto his arms and pulled him forward.

"Come on," Roxanne said exasperatedly, leading him to the couch. "I really don't want you fainting on my floor because your family would probably sue us if you cracked your head open and we certainly can't afford to pay any million dollar doctor bills."

She forced him down onto the squishy cushion and pushed his head between his knees. She didn't sit next to him, but on the coffee table across from the couch. Only her feet were visible from his vantage point, covered in worn fluffy pink slippers.

"Bernard? Get him some water, please."

"Why me?" he whined.

"Just do it please," she clipped, not just exasperated with Megamind.

"Fine," he grumbled, bare feet making a squeaking sound as he stomped into the kitchen.

"Sorry," she explained quietly. "He gets really grumpy when he doesn't get exactly eight hours. It's like having a baby."

He'd closed his eyes hoping to ward off the dizziness, but it hadn't subsided yet. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed long enough he'd fall asleep and then wake up to find that this had all been a really horrible nightmare. Pinching sometimes helped. If it didn't hurt, then he was definitely dreaming. He took a large chunk of the skin on his forearm in between his thumb and index finger and ended up pinching the fire out of his arm.

"Ow!"

"Why did you do that?" she asked, bewildered.

"I hoped I was dreaming," he said, massaging the wounded skin and couldn't stop himself from saying, "I can't believe you're married to…to…_him_!"

His head was still between his knees as the dizziness hadn't abated yet, but he pointed towards where he knew the kitchen to be, emphasizing "_him_" with an accusatory finger.

"Bernard? Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, caught off guard.

"Forget it. It wouldn't make any sense," he grumbled, kneading his temples.

"Try me. I think I could handle it," she tested, allowing her curious nature speak before her common sense butted in.

"Later," his muffled voice said. "It's kind of a long story."

She pursed her frustrated lips. Curiosity would have to wait. "Feel better yet?"

"No. It will be 2.6 more minutes."

"That's very precise. Why?"

"Do you realize how long it takes the blood to rush through _my_ head?" he snapped.

"Oh!" She let out a short giggle and then immediately subdued it. "Of course. Guess I wasn't thinking."

"Obviously."

"Well, there's no need to be insulting," she retorted.

"I wasn't trying to insult you, Roxanne. I was just stating an obvious fact because your cranium is abnormally smaller than mine and my biological processes aren't exactly common knowledge."

Unfazed by his insult to her cranium, she was about to ask him why he'd really come to see her so late because it most definitely wasn't just to chat, but she didn't get the chance.

"Okay, we've got a water here," Bernard said, returning from the kitchen. "Uh, you can't drink it with your head down."

Megamind rose to a sitting position against the cushions. His head was finally beginning to clear as he took the glass from Bernard. He tipped the glass to his mouth, glancing up at the _couple_ over the rim. Both stared at him, still slightly surprised. Bernard's face was more irritated than surprised. It was eerie being stared at by Bernard, as though he were looking in a warped mirror from the past. From what he could remember of the real museum curator, he'd always had a permanent wrinkle between his eyebrows. The messy-haired man kept glancing at the clock on the wall and the wrinkle grew more pronounced the later it got. Megamind would glue himself to the couch all night if it would affix that wrinkle to Bernard's forehead for all eternity.

Roxanne's expression was a little more difficult to decipher. Though she'd been furious with him earlier, that had apparently passed. She watched him, blinking every few seconds—one beautiful eyebrow forming a dark crescent of curiosity. Underneath her inquisitive stare she looked exhausted and he suddenly regretted waking her up just to satiate his desire to talk to her. Well, he didn't _completely_ regret it considering the fact she was _his_ wife alternate universe or not. _Thank you very much_.

He slowly got to his feet and held the glass out to her, which she took without a word.

"I'm sorry I came over so late, Roxanne," he said, looking directly at her. "It was very rude of me to wake you up."

"Darn right it was," grumbled Bernard.

"Since sleep's a lost cause now, maybe we should go to the studio and finish our discussion there so that Bernard can go back to sleep," Roxanne suggested, laying a hand on his arm.

Megamind glowered at _her_ hand on _that_ arm and then looked away. Any more subjection to this disgusting display and he'd throw up on both of them.

"Roxanne, it's the middle of the night," Bernard protested. "And wandering around Metro City at night is really a bad idea."

She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't be by myself. I'd be with Wayne and we'll take the news van, which is conveniently parked in the garage in the basement," she argued. "Besides, the 5am crew is already there setting up for the morning report."

Megamind positively loved the idea of spending every second of every day for eternity with Roxanne. The yearning to be near her, to talk to her, to touch her, was more overwhelming than it had ever been. Just a few more hours would never be enough, but every little minute was precious nevertheless. It was thrilling to think that maybe they could spend the entire day together! Maybe he could find a way to tell her the truth gently so she wouldn't think he was a crazed lunatic. He hadn't lied to her once since he'd disguised himself as Bernard.

"That's stupid, Roxanne," Bernard chastised. "Mayhem Man is constantly prowling around looking for a fight to start."

But Roxanne set the empty glass down on the coffee table and turned towards her bedroom, presumably to get dressed. Megamind was forcibly reminded of Mayhem Man towering over Roxanne with murder and various other wicked ideas swarming all over his face. And there was absolutely nothing to protect either of them out in the open city streets. Cops wouldn't be able to help, if there was even a police force to speak of. Exposing her to that vicious creep was a risk he would _never_ take.

_Never._

"Wait, Roxanne!" he called out, effectively bringing her to a stop. Gritting his teeth he said, "Bernard is…_right_. This is a dangerous place and we'll have a better chance to talk tomorrow when the rest of the city is awake. I'll…contact you in the morning." He had said it, but didn't know if he meant to follow through with it.

"Daylight won't make any difference to one's safety in Metro City," she retorted.

"Just the same, I'd feel better if you didn't—or if we waited."

"Me too," echoed Bernard. "There's plenty of time for this later."

Megamind recoiled to hear that word being thrown around so casually. _Time_. Little did Mr. Nasal Nose here know just how much time there wasn't.

"Have it your way," she groused, irritated that Wayne had backed down so quickly. "Good night, Wayne."

"Good night, Roxanne," he repeated, but she had already stalked off into the bedroom without a backwards glance.

Once he was gone, she laid on her side of the bed, which faced the ugly wallpaper. She felt a wild compulsion to rip it all off, but with hers and Bernard's low salaries, renovating was out of the question. Still, looking at the faded paint underneath the paper was preferable to the endless rows of pink and blue flowers that were so tiny and large in number that looking at it always crossed her eyes. What had ever possessed the previous occupant to glue such a busy and nauseating pattern to the walls?

She took her pillow between her hands and tried fluffing it up, but like the wallpaper, it was old and nothing but a lump of cottony mush. Next she tried folding it in half in an effort to provide some support to her aching neck. Of course, this didn't help at all. Tomorrow she was going to buy a new pillow whether Bernard liked it or not. He hated spending money on anything and pinched pennies until they just about cried in agony. Well he could complain all he wanted because her neck couldn't take the lumpy abuse anymore.

His weight on the bed announced that their guest had finally left.

"Geesh! I thought he'd never leave," griped Bernard, grabbing a box of tissues from the nightstand. "What did he want anyway? And what was up with that kooky outfit?"

"I don't know and I don't care. Can we talk about this in the morning?" she griped back, still fiddling with her pillow.

It was inevitable. Bernard had started his bedtime routine over since his precious slumber, which would take at least fifteen more minutes of keeping the lamp on. Maybe she should go sleep on the couch. It had always been more comfortable than this bed, which had been Bernard's investment idea. He couldn't sleep on anything but a firm mattress due to his back alignment problems and preferred a rigid surface, which equated to a sleeping on a rock in Roxanne's opinion. But he was her husband after all and she had tried to make do with his unusual creature comforts. And even weirder habits. Like how he had this self-tucking in routine every night involving smoothing the sheets out to such a wrinkle-free degree that it put her iron to shame. Or how his glasses had a "spot" on the nightstand that was only an arm length away. And she didn't want to even think about his ten minute nose-blowing ritual.

"Do you have to do this _again_?" she complained. "You've already done it once tonight."

"I've told you before, Roxie. I have to clear my nasal passages or I'll wake up with a headache. And I have to align my body in the perfectly supine position otherwise my back will be out of whack in the morning."

She gritted her teeth. "Please don't call me Roxie. I _hate_ that nickname."

"You never used to," he protested mildly, blowing into a tissue so hard that he sounded like a goose.

She cringed at the sound and snapped, "Well I do now."

"Whatever," he sighed, already sounding bored with the topic anyway.

Exactly ten minutes had passed when he got up to toss the tissues away because according to Bernard, this was how long it took to clear said nasal passages, followed by another minute of repeated heavy sniffing to ensure they were indeed clear. He then immediately began wiggling around on the mattress trying to find that supine position of perfection. He twisted this way and that way, smoothing the sheets around his body.

As she watched him, a very simple conclusion came to her that never had before. She'd unconsciously toyed with the idea, but had never seen the words actually pop up in her mind's eye until now. Bernard was _really_ annoying.

Oh, she was used to these habitual practices and some nights she was even too exhausted to notice. She was exhausted tonight too, but these routines were driving her up the wall into the corner of the ceiling. The annoyance factor would probably make her develop a nervous tick like persistent eye-blinking by the time they reached the Golden Years. Another five decades of listening to him honk into a wad of tissues would probably land her in a padded cell. Either that or she'd kill him. It didn't make sense that tonight's routine was extra-annoying when he had been doing the exact same thing every night since they were married three years ago, and that _included_ the wedding night.

She reached under her head to squeeze the pillow a little more. It wasn't going to cooperate tonight. Maybe if she rolled onto her stomach, she'd find a more comfortable spot. After about a minute of this, she turned on her right side because the hard springs were making every joint throb everywhere. It looked like she wasn't about to get any shut eye tonight either. She'd been having trouble sleeping for a while now and if there was anything she loathed more than not being able to get a good night's sleep, she certainly couldn't think of what it was right now. Not that she'd been asleep when Wayne Scott had shown up unannounced. She'd been lying awake contemplating sleeping on the couch anyway because it was so perfectly lumpy in all the right spots and was her favorite piece of furniture in the entire apartment.

_Wayne Scott_. Just add him to the pile of things that kept her awake every night. It wasn't the fact that he'd barged into their apartment in the middle of the night that had her upset. Not that she wasn't furious at him for disrupting her quiet night, but she was even more furious with herself. Why had she frozen like a statue every time he touched her? Why did he even touch her in the first place? The worst part was that she had been seconds from taking part in a kiss willingly with someone that wasn't her husband and if not for Bernard walking in, who knows what would have happened. What was _wrong_ with her? She would never do that to Bernard! How could she have considered such a crazy idea as to let a complete stranger get so close?

This was the only question she knew the answer to, at least partially. She'd wanted him to be close. That much she knew. The other half of the question was…why? And why, why, _why_ had she wanted that kiss to happen so badly?

With an exasperated sigh, she sat upright in bed and furiously pounded the pillow, attempting to get some sort of cushy comfort from it, imagining Wayne's face plastered across the blue material as her fist pulverized it into an even lumpier pulp. Questions! Questions! Questions! That's the only thought process she was capable of at the moment. With a growl of frustration, she grabbed the offending pillow and hurled it across the room, knocking over a vase of fake flowers. Luckily, the carpet kept the glass from shattering. It rolled into the middle of the floor, the bright pink Gerbera Daisies haphazardly littering the carpet.

Bernard's hand stilled above the "spot" for his glasses just as he was about to set them down. He stared at the vase and then her, his face actually registering an emotion for once. Surprise. "Uh…everything okay?"

"I really _hate_ that pillow _and _this mattress. I'm buying new ones this weekend."

"But—"

"Yeah, yeah. We can't afford it. I'll just charge it. I'm too exhausted to care right now anyway."

Instead of snuggling under the covers, she threw them back and swung her legs over the edge.

"Where are you going?" he asked, when she stood up.

"To sleep on the couch. It's more comfortable than this concrete slab," she said, jerking her thumb at the mattress.

Minutes later she was in far better comfort than she had been in the bedroom and even though her body was finally starting release some tension her mind wouldn't stop reliving the past hour with Wayne Scott. She glared up at the ceiling, willing her mind to shut itself down.

How was it possible that even though they'd never met before tonight, she'd felt like they had? That notion was completely insane and probably a delusion brought on by sleep deprivation. Just because he hadn't acted like a complete stranger and had touched her like he'd been touching her every day of his life didn't amount to a hill of beans. She'd just imagined it. That was all. It simply _had_ to be her imagination running away with itself.

But then that other little nagging feeling stared her plainly in the face and wasn't as easily dismissed. He'd tried to kiss her and she hadn't wanted to stop him. Then she started wondering why all over again. If there was anything Roxanne hated, it was having a question that she couldn't answer. Reporters everywhere shared a quest for the truth. And she was nothing if not the most inquisitive reporter around. So she forced her thoughts into a logical pattern and made a mental list of questions starting with why he'd shown up without warning to talk about a phone call that she'd made over three years ago. What was so important that it couldn't wait?

She'd told him to call her tomorrow. Forget that! She was calling _him_ tomorrow. That would certainly take him by surprise. Especially when her news van pulled up into the driveway of Scott Manor. And she had a strange feeling that he wouldn't turn her away.

Roxanne smiled satisfactorily now that a plan of action was in the works. Then she actually fell asleep peacefully for the first time in a long time.

Megamind hadn't left the hallway, but was listening to Bernard lock the door, which his ample forehead was currently resting against. The lamplight illuminating the gap at the bottom of the door was extinguished as was his hope of going back inside to see her just one more time. But once would never be enough now that he had broken a cardinal rule of time traveling by seeking her out. And it wasn't a spontaneous explosion of the earth he was thinking of, but rather the jumbled reality he'd created that had taken Roxanne away from his life. He hadn't listened to Minion's urgent warnings to leave Roxanne alone as he'd rushed out the door. In hindsight, he hadn't realized he'd be making a colossal mistake.

Before he'd seen Roxanne, the situation hadn't seemed all that bad. Sure he was stuck in alternate universe, but that was only a minor setback now that there was another time machine hidden in the sub-basement of Scott Manor saving him the trouble of repairing the old one or building a new one from scratch. Waiting for his alter ego to come home had been the only other obstacle. He thought that he could handle the oddities he was sure to encounter in such a strange place. After all, science was his forte. But the sight of that four-eyed geek, who was currently snuggling next to _his_ wife had completely blindsided him. He had taken it for granted that everything would be the way it was at home.

"Stupid," he whispered softly, shaking his head at his foolish assumption.

He'd been a fool right from the beginning. Creating a time machine all those years ago had been the first folly. At the time, it had seemed the right course to follow. Trading places with Metro Man was supposed to have made all his dreams come true…parents, wealth and admiration of the public. But then something remarkable had occurred. Roxanne had fallen for him anyway. He hadn't needed any kind of gadget or supervillain special effects to win her love. He'd just acted like himself, well…the projected image of Bernard hadn't been real, but he hadn't been pretending about anything else. Now because of one horrible mistake, everything was a chaotic mess because he had no claim to her here.

It was a long time before he got back into the elevator to leave because he backtracked more than once towards the apartment contemplating a crazy idea. For one wild minute, he considered blasting a hole in the wall, dehydrating Bernard again just for the heck of it and throwing Roxanne over his shoulder for one last kidnapping spree. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't resort to an evil plan just for the satisfaction of reducing Bernard into a desiccated cube or for taking his wife back when she didn't even know she was his wife.

_Could he?_ No, Roxanne most definitely wouldn't approve of witnessing him pull a gun on her stupid husband even though he wasn't going to kill him no matter how attractive that idea was beginning to sound. It was just a brief passing notion that went through his mind ten or twenty-six times. A hand had unconsciously inched its way towards the De-gun. He didn't remember curling his fingers around the hilt nor freeing it from the holster. He replaced the weapon and returned to the elevator, squaring his jaw and swallowing the hard lump in his throat as he refused to look back.

Barging in would frighten her because this Roxanne had no knowledge of his past antics. And he would _never _willingly do that to her no matter how painful it was for him. He couldn't risk another meeting. Tonight would have to be the one and only time he saw her. He would just avoid watching the news while he was here. That would work wouldn't it?

"Seriously? Bernard?" he asked the empty elevator. "At least when I was Bernard I was me. Witty, charming and completely hilarious. Not some pompous pinheaded dweeb!"

Insulting the man was childish and pointless. And completely gratifying. Megamind stopped in his tracks, hand ready to push the door open and walk out onto the dark street. His blue reflection in the glass glared back at him, black eyebrows deeply knotted together. Walking the streets of Metrocity in the dead of night in all his blue glory would be very stupid. A quick turn of the projection watch and the image of the warden popped up. With any luck, another taxi would appear to take him back before he had to walk too far. If Mayhem Man didn't find him first. But maybe the oaf was asleep. Even villains needed a nap after a long day of lawless rebellion. He cautiously opened the door and stepped outside, keeping his eyes trained skyward. So far everything looked clear, but he wasn't about to let his guard down.

The streets around Roxanne's apartment building were deserted, but the further he walked, the more this changed. Homeless people were milling around or huddled together with their hands stretched over the fires in ten-gallon drums. They ignored him for the most part. Some never even glanced his way. Though he wasn't stupid enough to believe no one was watching him. His disguise as the warden wasn't exactly inconspicuous. A man in a nice suit walking dangerous streets in the dark was a recipe for a mugging. But walking around as Wayne Scott was a recipe for kidnapping and ransom and he really didn't have the time to be kidnapped right now.

"Let 'em try," he said, grimly smirking into the darkened alleys.

Picking a fight was probably not the best idea he'd ever had, but if anything helped him get his mind off Roxanne then he welcomed throwing a few punches around. He didn't have to wait as long as he thought. Soon a pair of footsteps fell into step behind him about twenty feet back. There was always the possibility that he wasn't being followed, but he wasn't naïve enough to actually believe that. This was a Metrocity run amok with crime. After five minutes passed, the steady pace of his follower still kept in time with his gait. But another pair of squeaky rubber soles added cacophony to the stillness around them. And then two more joined the midnight stroll, but he maintained a quick pace and acted as though he were completely oblivious to his surroundings. He concentrated on the number of steps taken and counted four pairs of feet. Such a low number was hardly a challenge for his superhero skills!

Across the opposite sidewalk, a figure in a hoodie emerged from in between the shadowy buildings to move directly in front of him. One more joined the ranks. Oh, this was going to be good. Six wasn't anything he hadn't handled before.

He smirked when the figure in front of him whirled around to face him and pulled out a gun. The others quickly formed a tight circle, brandishing a variety of weapons including a few more guns, chains and a crowbar.

"Isn't it a little late to be going for a walk, Pops? A man of your age should be in bed by now," Thug number one said, chortling at his own joke.

"And shouldn't a man of your age be getting his little bottom powdered by his mommy after making a mess of his diaper?" he shot back, falling into the predictable back and forth banter role with supreme ease.

The smirk on the kid's face quickly morphed into a flared-nostrils glare. "Oh, dude, you are so gonna get it, Pops!"

"Wow! Clever comeback. Tell me; am I correct in assuming you didn't make it past kindergarten?"

"Hey, man, how'd he know that about you?" said one of the crowd.

"Shut up!" he yelled.

"Uh oh! Be careful. Don't want to mess baby's diaper again do we?"

Chuckles erupted around him. "You shut up too!" He yelled at his criminal friends, cheeks turning red. "Old man thinks he's pretty funny, huh?"

He shrugged. "Well, I don't like to brag, but…"

The hoodlum stalked up to Megamind, shoving the barrel of the gun under his chin. "How about now?"

"But in a contest," he continued. "I'm afraid you'd beat me because the crowd would be too busy laughing at your ugly mug than at my rapier witticism."

Said ugly mug frowned, obviously never having heard those words before. He jerked his head, motioning to two of his cronies. They roughly grabbed his arms and began rifling through his pockets.

"Hope you enjoy touching a suit that's worth more than your pathetic mugging skills have ever amounted to," he goaded.

One of the pitiful muggers cried in triumphant when his hand found a wallet. Megamind sniggered under his breath as the wallet disappeared into thin air. The science of the holowatch was simply matter replication that housed photons concealed by hundreds of thousands of micro force fields, which gave the illusion of real matter. In essence, the wallet was real until the illusion was separated from the signal produced by the watch. It also concealed anything else he was wearing prior to activating the hologram—including his De-gun. They wouldn't be able to feel it strapped to his side even if they were looking for it.

"Wait! I had it!" Thug number two said.

"Then where did it go? You drop it?" Thug number three asked, keeping a firm grip on Megamind's arm.

Thug number two shrugged. "No…it uh…vanished?"

"It _what_?" he asked, eyes agog.

"Oops! I certainly hope Mayhem Man isn't watching. I can imagine how embarrassed he'd be to see you've not been paying attention during Muggers 101."

Megamind knew he shouldn't antagonize the degenerates forming a tight circle around him, but he didn't care. Being trapped in a world where Roxanne wasn't his wife was starting to take its toll on his common sense. A sudden recklessness took over the normal caution he approached these types of situations with. Right now he wanted a fight to distract his thoughts from picturing her with that dork. He'd been in shock from the moment Bernard had walked out of that bedroom and right now it was all coming to a head.

He was outnumbered and considerably smaller than half of the hulking criminals around him, but that wasn't about to stop him from throwing a punch. Unfortunately, the man with the gun beat him to the punch. Literally.

He stumbled from the blow to his face. The hand that hit him was the one with the gun. Blood oozed from a cut on his left cheekbone.

"Your money, Pops! Where is it?"

He swiped the cut with the back of his hand and got to his feet. "Don't have any," he lied and motioned across the street. "Maybe you should try that automated teller machine."

"The WHAT?" he cried in confusion.

He rolled his eyes. "The ATM, genius. Aren't there any criminals of intelligence in this altered metropolis?"

The man tossed his gun to someone in the circle and put up his fists. "You know, I haven't beaten anyone up since lunch. Too long."

"Great!" he said pleasantly. "Now you have something to add to your resume, not that you can write. Maybe I should lend you some crayons."

Megamind was expecting a cheap shot from behind and ducked. The punch collided with Thug number two's face, knocking him off his feet. Even though they weighed more and had muscles thicker than his waist, his alien physiology possessed better agility and speed. Not to mention a thicker, cranial plate perfect for head butting. He grabbed the guy standing closest to him, Thug number three, and rammed him skull to skull. The man dropped to the pavement, completely out cold. Thugs four, five and six rushed him. He jumped back, barely missing the swing of the crowbar and landed a kick to someone's nose, which instantly cracked. Steel toes were a recent addition to his superhero regalia—Roxanne's genius suggestion actually. He crumpled to the ground, holding his nose as it gushed blood.

Two meaty arms encircled his, pinning them to his side. He didn't try to escape because the Hulk-sized man was too strong. Instead he succumbed to a hard punch, but twisted to the right, which allowed the punch to glance off the side of his head and into the chest of his captor. Though he didn't let go, his grip loosened when he took a step back, and Megamind was able to break free. He shook his head to clear it from the punch. The Hulk recovered quickly and charged, but tripped over his crony that was still lying on the floor holding his very crooked nose.

Megamind pulled out his gun and switched the setting to Demoralize. He didn't use this one too often, but vowed to use it more from now on when the giant man stopped in his tracks and began crying like a baby as the blue energy stream was absorbed by his body.

"H-h-how is the old—old m-m-man doing this?" he chocked, as tears streamed down his face.

"Tony! What's the matter with you?"

"Aren't you scared too? He's twice as old as we are and he's whipping us all!" he whined. He suddenly crushed his friend in a hug. "Hold me!"

"Dude! Get OFF me!" he screamed, pushing him back. He whacked the giant in the head with his crowbar, knocking him out cold.

Three of the six thugs were out of commission. But Thugs one, four and five stood shoulder to shoulder and stalked forward, swinging chains and holding their crowbars like bats. Only one other of them held a gun. The one he'd taunted mercilessly in the beginning. Megamind slowly walked backward, pointing a steady weapon at them.

"Uh oh. This little scenario smells of West Side Story. Please _don't _start snapping me to death."

"You're dead, Pops," he growled, pointing at him.

Megamind didn't bother answering. They were almost right where he wanted them. As he walked backward, the building to his left was constructed mostly of brick and didn't look too sturdy. In this situation, it was lucky that Metrocity was a rundown pile of wreckage. He could have simply dehydrated them, but that would have been too easy. He wasn't done having fun.

"Perfect! Smile!"

Thug number five actually stopped to smile. Megamind mimed a camera click, switched the setting to De-stroy and the outer brick wall of the building came tumbling down on the two standing closest to it. Thug number one was the last man standing and he leapt out of the way in time, skidding to a stop in the middle of the street. He fired his gun, but Megamind was eons ahead of him, firing back with his own. The beam caught the bullet, which exploded upon impact. His assailant jumped back, staring with big round eyes.

"How did you do that?" he cried.

"It's too complex for your puny brain to grasp and I don't have an eternity to try explaining, which is how long it would take."

The hooligan really took shots to his lack of intelligence personally. He tossed his gun aside and charged Megamind, who hadn't been expecting a full frontal assault, but rather another volley of bullets. He was caught off guard and went sailing as the man crashed into him, hitting his head on the pile of rubble littering the sidewalk. The De-gun flew from his hand and landed exactly eight feet away. Stars swam in his vision, disabling him enough that he was unable to fend off the next attack. He was yanked to his feet by his collar. An arm locked around his neck.

"I'm gonna enjoy this, Pops," he said in his ear.

Megamind grimaced as his hot breath wafted across his nose. "I think I'd be more worried about your halitosis if I were you!" he choked out.

"Huh?"

It was all the distraction he needed. A well-placed elbow to Thug number one's gut loosened his hold. He spun around, striking him hard across the face, which effectively threw him off balance and he fell, but grabbed Megamind's wrist in the process. His fingers slid over the watch dial and the projected image of the warden vanished.

He managed to stay on his feet as the thug fell down. With the D-gun safely back in his hands, Megamind walked over to dumbstruck criminal, who laid there looking up at him in shock.

"Wayne Scott? Dude! This is unbelievable. I've been fighting you this whole time. Whoa! Is that a new Gamer technology watch thing? Can I try it on?"

"Nope," he said, dehydrating him before he could ask any more questions.

Megamind went to the remaining five criminals and dehydrated the rest of them before they could wake up. He held all six glowing cubes in his hand, wondering what to do with them. Rehydrating them and leaving them hog-tied on the police's doorstep wouldn't help any. They'd just be back on the street by morning with the lack of criminal justice in this city. He considered dropping them down the sewer, which left him with a hilarious mental image. However, he couldn't in good conscience, let them go whenever they might hurt someone else. A someone else who could be Roxanne.

Instead, he pocketed them and resumed his course back to Scott Manor. He wasn't bothered anymore or followed by anyone else for the remainder of his trek.

Unbeknownst to Megamind, an iPhone captured the whole thing on video and went viral on You Tube within an hour for the entire world to see. The owner of the phone sat at his stolen laptop and watched the video over and over, pausing and rewinding back to the moment the old man morphed into Metro City's very own genius alien, Wayne Scott.

"Un-_freaking-_believable," he murmured. "Wait till Mayhem sees this."

**A/N: Hi! I hope everyone liked it. It's a long time coming. One of my classes is now over for the summer so hopefully I can spend more time on writing. I hate that it takes me so long, but I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to editing it and even then, I miss a bunch of typos. Anyway, I'm sure you can all guess who is talking at the end of the chapter. I'm not crazy about Hal, but I love Jonah Hill. He's too funny. Oh, and I don't mean to hate on Bernard, but I just picture him as **_**that**_** guy—the one who blows his nose like a foghorn or has very specific routines for everything. Kudos to DesertDragon for guessing that the guy is Bernard. Not that I really think Roxanne would be married to Bernard, but hey, this is a crazy alternate reality, so…Let's just have fun with this!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: It's Mega-Complicated

"Hello? Minion? Why are you calling me so early? Or late rather in your time zone. You should be sleeping."

There was a moment's hesitation on the other end of the line. "Uh…it's an emergency. You need to come home."

Wayne Scott paused the bootleg copy of the next Halo game he'd borrowed from a fellow techie at the convention. This version hadn't hit the electronic store shelves yet. Minion's urgent call, however, pushed the game out of his thoughts immediately. His heart began pounding when he heard the fish's worried tone.

"Is it Mom and Dad? What happened?"

"No! No! No! Your parents are fine," he reassured. "This isn't _that_ kind of emergency."

"Oh, thank God!" He laid a hand on his skinny chest just above his heart, which was still pumping painfully fast. "Minion, you scared me to death!" He said sternly.

"Yes, Sir. I know, Sir and I'm sorry, Sir."

That was an awful lot of _Sirs _from Minion. Wayne's hand hovered over the buttons to the remote control for the game, but he didn't push any of them. He was waiting for Minion to elaborate on the situation, but the little fish seemed to be having trouble relaying his message.

"Did someone break in? Did they find the basement?" he asked helpfully, trying to glean some bit of information.

"No, it's not that kind of emergency either."

"Well…are _you_ feeling okay?" he checked, running out of ideas as to what the supposed emergency was.

"Fit as a fiddle, Sir."

"Geez, Minion! You're freaking me out! What's going on?"

There was quiet on the other side of the line for so long that Wayne thought Minion had swam away without hanging up.

"Minion? You still there?"

"I…am, Sir," he said slowly.

"Then for the love of Yoda, what's wrong? Why do you want me to come home so soon? The convention just started after all."

"I don't think this is something I can tell you over the phone. You'll have to see for yourself." He added, "And it trumps the convention."

Wayne rolled his eyes. "That's cryptically unhelpful," he complained.

"It's better this way. Trust me."

"Don't I even get a hint?" he pressed.

"I just _really_ need you to see something."

Wayne irritably tossed the game remote onto the coffee table. "All right! I'll leave now."

There was a sigh of profound relief on the other end. "Good. I'll see you soon, Sir."

"Get some sleep, Minion."

"I will, Sir," he promised. "Oh, and Sir? Don't tell anyone about this."

_Don't tell anyone about this?_ Considering that Minion had told him next to nothing how could Wayne possibly tell anyone anything when _he_ hadn't been given so much as a clue as to why he had to abandon the convention so suddenly?

Wayne ended the call and immediately dialed the number for his pilot, Wally, to fire up the jet. After a hasty packing session, he left the hotel and the convention behind. The whole drive to the airport in the back of the limo, he nervously twiddled his fingers and contemplated Minion's mysterious phone call.

He'd always get a call from Minion several times a day when he was out of town. The caretaker never failed to check on him and make sure he had everything he needed. His best friend fretted over whether or not he was eating three square meals a day and constantly nagged him to go to bed on time. He'd even anxiously hovered over Wayne's suitcase as he'd packed before the trip, reminding him to bring extra underwear.

This call had been different though. Minion had sounded very strained. Worried even. This in turn, meant that Wayne was starting to worry. Today had been his turn on the podium at the tech convention and even though being in public scared him, well, all of the time, he absolutely loved talking about his new gadgets. That one phone call from Minion, however, had driven it fully from his thoughts.

After making his way back down into the basement lab, Megamind removed his cape, draped it across one of the lab tables and then nearly collapsed into a lab chair in front of one of the computer monitors. Somehow he had managed to reach Scott Manor without being jumped a second time. He had disguised himself again, but hadn't dared used the warden's image because those goons would have spotted him instantly. Instead, he used another image from the past. One he was both positively _loath_ to conceal his identity with and yet overjoyed at the sadistic pleasure of parading around in if it landed the man in trouble. _Ber-naard_. What a ghastly name! But it was the only other image currently stored in the watch besides Metro Man's and Space Dad's. He should probably delete that last one since it had dismally failed.

He lightly touched the cut on his cheek and winced. It was pretty sore, but at least it had stopped bleeding. Cleaning it was the first priority, but he was too worn out to start rifling through the lab for peroxide and bandages. It could wait until later. Much later. Besides, it wasn't the fight that had him slumped in the chair feeling utterly drained.

The mental ordeal of seeing Roxanne with someone else—or the crushing of his soul—as he was starting to think of it as, had thrown his whole body for a loop. Before he'd sent himself through time, he'd not had any sleep. The rush of adrenaline from throwing a few punches around was now gone and he wanted nothing more than to take a really long nap.

The Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted had been built far away from downtown, which was where the majority of the citizens resided. The criminals of the facility had been locked away from the rest of civilization to do their time like outcasts. The design of the structure was high tech and much of the cost had been funded by the wealthy Scott family. In the past, it was a top notch security facility that had housed some of the most dangerous criminals to grace Metro City. No prisoner had ever managed to escape.

Except for one.

He had broken out at a very young age and not in the traditional sense. Most criminals dug tunnels under the prison, faked their deaths so their bodies would be removed while some simply started riots and escaped in the chaos. But none had ever managed to tear apart the structure from the inside out. At the tender age of six he realized that he had more power than anyone alive and with that power, he could make them do whatever he wanted, especially when they screamed for mercy.

But he'd left the prison standing despite the destruction within. It was odd really, but he rather liked the cold gray building that had given birth to his life of crime. Tearing it down would have been like losing a friend. Besides, its distance from the city lights gave him the perfect vantage point and he spent a lot of time on the roof spying on everyone with his super sight. Mayhem Man wasn't currently on the roof eyeballing the city though. He'd just returned from starting a minor earthquake in South America and was still snickering about that one. He was just _too _good and frequently amazed himself at the horrors he inflicted.

Mayhem stood in what used to be the warden's office, admiring himself. He'd lined the entire room with mirrors. There were gilded mirrors, square mirrors, round mirrors, small mirrors, full-length mirrors and antique mirrors. It didn't really matter the size, shape or style because mirrors all had one basic function in common: they displayed his favorite image.

"Me," he said, gazing at his perfect reflection. As he stood in front of the mirror, he alternated flexing his biceps to see how big the muscles could be inflated. "Bigger than my head!" he grinned with a self-satisfied smirk as the muscles began resembling boulders. The seams of his sleeves bore the brunt of the attack and split in two, the ripping sound of material music to his ears.

To complete the bad guy ensemble, he grinned wide, forming a deep V with his eyebrows. Then a burst of laser beams shot from his eyes into the reflection. The glass warped in waving ripples as it melted onto the dirty tiled floor until nothing but a pile of liquefied glass remained, smoking into the stale air.

"Yeah, baby. Looking good!" he said, admiring his physique one last time before exiting the room.

He strolled through the mess hall in the center of the prison where many of its previous inmates were playing pool, cheating at poker, counting stolen money or punching each other in the face. A good majority of the ex-cons still lived in the prison, but it was most definitely not behind bars. It had been so easy recruiting his little army of morons. They either joined his crime club or he melted them with the burning lasers of his eyes. Simple as that. Course, he'd been forced to demonstrate the punishment when one of the cowards had tried deserting him. After that little show, he hadn't had one moment of trouble since. Tyranny worked like a charm.

To outsiders, most of his guys didn't appear to take any notice of Mayhem as he passed through the mess hall, but he could smell their fear acutely. Heart beats sped up, the stench of sudden perspiration drifted through his nose and bodies froze, hoping that he'd just keep going and leave them all alone. Tonight he wasn't really in the mood to kill anyone, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun.

He suddenly spun so fast that it created a small tornado in the room. Everyone was knocked off of their feet. The poker cards went flying. The stolen money scattered into the air, raining down greenbacks all over them. Once things settled back down, the group scrambled on top of each other, kicking and punching to grab the unclaimed bills.

Mayhem watched in amusement as the pandemonium increased into an all-out, knock-down drag out. Fists flew. Feet kicked. Teeth bit. Chairs knocked guys over the head. He walked through the fighting throng, laughing and easily side-stepping a couple of guys as they collapsed on the floor, one with his arm around the other guy's neck in a tight chokehold. This went on a few more minutes until Mayhem yawned, having become bored with the fight.

"All right! That's enough!" he called.

But the group of roughhousing hooligans didn't hear him over all the punching, yelling and crashing as they destroyed each other and the room. He tried again, but still, no one heard him. So Mayhem did the next best thing. He grabbed a guy who tripped in front him. Before anyone could blink, Mayhem raised the unlucky man over his head and threw him across the room straight through a window, his screams heard by everyone, which abruptly cut off, sending a shiver through the suddenly docile crowd.

"When I say to knock it off I mean…KNOCK! IT! OFF!" he roared. The rush of his super breath knocked everyone off their feet. They didn't dare attempt to stand. He fixed each and every face with his ugliest glower, challenging them to speak. No one so much as breathed. But he could hear their petrified hearts beating twice as fast. The noise was deafening to his acute senses.

Mayhem blasted right through the ceiling all the way to the roof of the prison. He glared to the north, right where the Metro City skyline rested. It wouldn't take much to bring this town to its knees. The police were already scared stiff of his amazing power and how easily he could kill them all. City officials practically ate out of the palm of his super hand, too afraid to oppose his misdeeds. Citizens had been warned to avoid making trouble for him at all costs, which brought about curfews to protect the people from becoming victims.

Ha! As if a dinky little dead bolted door could keep him out.

He could level this burg in seconds with a single breath from his super lungs. Nothing and no one would ever be able to stop him. He kicked at the roof ledge, breaking a huge chunk and watched as it sailed through the sky before finally crashing into the ocean and a sailboat as it drifted by. It immediately sank, earning a cruel chuckle from its destroyer.

"It's so awesome being me."

He stilled suddenly. Footsteps from a few floors below were making their way to the top. They were heavy and so was the person that belonged to them. Each weighted footfall crashed into his eardrums. He grimaced in annoyance as he used his x-ray vision to look through the door to identify his most annoying gang member.

Mayhem rolled his eyes and asked before it opened, "What do you want, Hal?"

Hal Stewart peered around the door frame, eyes wide before walking through, but he didn't shut the door. He kept glancing at the gap behind him as though checking to make sure he had a clear escape route. Mayhem half-rolled his eyes, arching his eyebrows when the tubby goof still hadn't made a sound. He was carrying a cell phone in his hand, which he was nervously drumming his fingers against.

"What do you _want_, Hal?" Mayhem repeated in a grating tone.

The carrot top took a small step forward. "I…uh…" his voice faltered, badly shaking.

"Spit it out!" Mayhem barked.

Hal hurried forward, tripping over his feet. The cell phone went flying and he stumbled trying to catch it before it fell to the ground. It bounced up and down in his hands before he managed to snatch it tightly between his palms. His shoulders shook with a nervous laugh and once again he resumed his approach, but not with any haste to get too close.

"Hal, don't make me drop kick you into the next state," he threatened darkly. "Now. What. Do. You. Want?"

The awkward kid jumped, but didn't take off like Mayhem was expecting. That what everyone's normal reaction to him was after all. It wasn't usually Hal's though. This kid was so scared he looked ready to jump out his skin, but always held his ground. Hal usually tried finding a way into Mayhem's good graces. Pushy little brownnoser.

"Uh…I have something to show you," he said quietly, holding up the phone.

"Can't it wait?" he snapped. "I'm busy."

Hal sighed with resolve and straightened his normally curved posture. "No. It can't."

Mayhem raised one curious eyebrow. "Oh really? Well, what makes you think I want to see it? Or that I even care?"

Hal grinned knowingly as he held up the phone again. "I've been replaying this video over and over all night just to make sure my eyes weren't messing with me." Suddenly the kid found his courage and walked right up to Mayhem. "And they weren't."

Mayhem yawned, barely interested, but consented anyway. "Fine. I'll look at your video."

Hal moved a practiced finger around the touch screen and grinned when he found the right video. He held out the phone, which Mayhem grabbed and noticed with absolutely no concern that Hal was nursing an injured hand. Huh. He must have grabbed the phone harder than he thought. Not his fault that Hal had gotten his fingers too close. Mayhem held up the phone and pressed play.

"What the heck is this supposed to be?" he asked. "It just looks like my guys jumped some geezer for his money."

"Keep watching," Hal assured. "It's gonna blow your mind, dude."

Mayhem turned a skeptical eye back to the little screen. He cocked his head to the side curiously as the geezer began fighting back. The old coot was in pretty good shape, but those were six of Mayhem's thugs and they were the meanest bunch of punks around—dumb as a rock, but still the meanest because stupid and dangerous mixed into a very deadly—but useful—formula. Singlehandedly, the old guy fought off the entire group. There was still a minute left to go in the video when he looked up at Hal.

"So? One got away. It wouldn't be the first time a mugging went south. There's always one idiot that thinks he can fight back."

"Keep watching," Hal said a second time.

With a very irritated sigh, Mayhem's gaze turned back to the phone. He was just about to toss it over the side of the building when the old man pulled out a…_ray gun_? A stream of blue fired from the gun, pelting his biggest, meanest thug and even though Hal was standing all the way across the street, Mayhem could still hear the big guy start bawling like an infant. _What the heck was going on here! _Another blast from the ray gun crumbled a brick wall on top of two more of his guys, leaving the last to fend for himself.

The video had only twenty-three seconds left, but as it turned out, they were the most important twenty-three seconds of Mayhem's existence. The old man disappeared when Mayhem's thug touched something on the old man's wrist. Mayhem began to tremble with barely controlled fury when none other than Wayne Scott, billionaire genius, had somehow managed to disguise his image with a hologram and taken on a group that outnumbered him.

He didn't need to replay the video. Once had been enough. The phone cracked and splintered in his hands as he crushed the life out of it, ignoring Hal's protests of, "Duuuude! Not cool!" He dropped the remains of the cell onto the roof of the building and turned an enraged glare on Hal, who immediately stopped whining about his phone.

"Was that really who I think it was?" he whispered, shaking with wrath.

Hal nodded, taking a step back when Mayhem's eyes flared up into dual fiery embers. "W-Wayne…S-S-Scott. The computer d-d-dude."

"And just what did he think he was doing?" he hissed.

"Um…I don't know?" Hal glanced back at the roof access door, edging closer to it.

"Was he trying to be a _hero_?" asked the supervillain as he stalked towards the trembling man. "Trying to start something with _me_?"

Mayhem took slow and deliberate steps towards Hal, whose hands rose to ward off the rage that was sure to come his way. He backtracked and ended up tripping over an untied shoe lace, landing on his back. He clumsily rolled over, trying to crawl away on hands and knees. But Mayhem was just too fast and grabbed Hal by the collar, dragging him up with one arm and violently twisted him around so that they were nose to nose. Slowly they ascended into the air. Hal grabbed Mayhem's wrists to hold on, looking wildly around in panic as the building below them grew smaller and smaller.

"Well you're going to find out what Wayne Scott thinks he's doing! This is my city and we play the game by my rules. Not his!"

"H-h-h-how am I gonna do that?" Hal asked fearfully.

"I DON'T CARE! JUST DO IT!"

Then Mayhem let go, dropping Hal onto the roof. He'd only flown roughly twenty feet into the air. It wasn't enough to kill that pile of blubber, but he grinned sadistically when he heard the crunch of bone.

Hal had landed on his ankle.

Minion had tried waiting up all night for Sir—the alternate reality one—to return, but he hadn't been able to make it and abruptly woke with a jolt. He had fallen asleep on top of the gravel at the base of the tank. A quick survey of the room revealed that alternate Sir—as he was starting to think of him, clearly still hadn't returned from his visit with Roxanne. Minion knew that was where he'd been going. To search for her. Considering that he was still alive to swim another day, the universe hadn't exploded due to alternate Sir's rash visit to the news reporter. Either that or he hadn't found her and if he hadn't, where was he?

After a prolonged yawn, Minion stretched his little fins and swam through his tank so fast he left a long stream of bubbles in his wake. Once he reached the lab, he froze. The wake of the bubbles caught up to him and clouded his vision, but there was a blue blur in a lab chair and he cautiously swam to the section of tank that wound its way along the wall just above the lab table. Alternate Sir was fast asleep, resting his blue dome on his thin arms. If Minion had been in a better mood and not so frustrated with alternate Sir's rash actions the night before, he'd have let him sleep, but he wasn't and he didn't.

The alien ichthyoid pressed his face up against the warm tank, fixing his charge with a very stern pair of eyes. Like with many people who were being stared at so intently without their knowledge—and during sleep—Alternate Sir's eyes popped open. He looked up and sucked in a huge breath, toppling out of the chair, which rolled halfway across the lab while he landed on the cold floor. Minion wasn't usually so disagreeable, but every now and then…he just felt like being mad.

"Minion! What on earth was that for?" Alternate Sir cried, slumping on the tiled floor and looking extremely bleary eyed.

"You went to see Roxanne Ritchi didn't you? Just like you _shouldn't_ have done!" he lectured immediately, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"And so what if I did, Minion?" he groaned irritably.

"Because it's exactly what you said you _shouldn't_ do because of the whole apocalypse theory!" Minion's breath caught in his throat suddenly. "Why is there cut on your cheek? Did you freak her out so badly that she punched you?"

"No, I did not," he snarled.

"Then how did you get it?" Minion demanded.

Sir remained stubbornly quiet, folding his arms across his chest in defiance. He refused to look Minion in the eye.

"Did you trip?"

"No."

"Run into a wall?"

"No." 

"Step on a rake?"

"No!"

"Walk into someone's fist?"

"Yes!" He gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth. "Of all the sneaky…you tricked me!"

"It's always been the easiest way to make you tell the truth, Sir," he said, shrugging indifferently. Then he fixed him with the same hard glare. "What were you doing that made you walk into someone's fist?"

"Nothing I can't handle I assure you," he said snippily.

"You get into a fight?"

"Maybe," he hinted.

Minion sighed exasperatedly. "Why would you go and get into a fight? Especially in _this_ city?"

"I was jumped right after I left Roxanne's apartment. It was pathetic really. The worst bunch of criminals I've come across. Took only ten minutes to overpower them." He produced a glare of disdain and spat, "_Amateurs_."

"Look, Sir, the Metro City you are trapped in is full of crime and evil, _evil_ people."

Sir gave him a supercilious look. "No one knows better how to handle e-vil than I do. _I_ invented it!" he finished proudly.

Minion continued as though there had been no interruption. "And even though you may be the hero _there, _that's no excuse to go looking for trouble _here_. You might have been killed! What if Mayhem Man had showed up?" Minion pressed his fins to his mouth in fear and worriedly swam back and forth in the water. "What if he saw you? He'll come after you. Oh, that's just great. Mayhem Man is going to bash your head in with his super fists and—"

"Relax, Minion! Mayhem _Maahhnn_," he sneered, dragging out the word dramatically, "is the least of my problems. Besides, my holowatch disguised me perfectly. Well, except for that moron who accidentally turned the disguise off towards the end of the fight."

Minion gasped. "Oh, this is really bad."

"How? No one saw me."

"Are you sure about that? This place is crawling with hoodlums hiding in alleys just waiting for their next victim. Someone may have witnessed the fight and then ran back to Mayhem Man to report that Wayne Scott has suddenly decided to be a hero."

"What are you saying? That I've accidentally framed him?"

"In the worst possible way. You should never have gone to see Ms. Ritchie," he scolded.

Sir bristled. "She's _my_ wife after all!"

"Not here she's not," he pointed out.

"Gee, thanks! I didn't know that," he said, sarcasm oozing from every word. "Silly me for just assuming I could brush Roxanne aside with a wave of my be-gloved hand and pretend that she's not my wife while blatantly ignoring the fact that she's married to _Ber-naaard _and had absolutely no feelings for me at ALL!"

He yelled the last word at Minion, still from his undignified position on the floor. Minion's anger vanished. He couldn't scold him anymore. Not when he sat in such a defeated slump looking like a beaten puppy. Minion was a sucker for those big green eyes and could never stay angry for long. He always caved. Not for the first time, he was wishing more than ever that he could wrap his fins around the blue guy's shoulders in a big bear hug.

"She's married to someone?" he asked quietly.

Alternate Sir folded his legs beneath him, propping his elbows on his knees. He rested his droopy head against the palm of his right hand and looked up at Minion dejectedly.

"Yeah. You _were_ right, Minion. I should have listened to you. I don't do that often enough and you're always right." He seemed to realize what he'd just said because his eyes widened slightly. "Well…I mean, technically you are right _some_ of the time, but the ratio is so small that the comparison is hardly noteworthy."

"Of course, Sir!" he said in his most upbeat tone. "We all know who puts the IQ tests to shame in this family."

Sir half-smirked. "Thanks, Minion."

"So…how many did you fight?" Minion questioned, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.

Sir shrugged unconcernedly. "Only six."

"Six against one?" he asked, eyes bugging. "But that's too many. It's too reckless! You could have gotten a lot worse than a cut on the cheek!"

Sir chuckled softly. "It was hardly a challenge, Minion, thanks to you."

Minion stopped his nervous trek through the water. "Me?" he asked, still bewildered that Sir even knew how to throw a punch let alone use it to win a fight.

"Yes, you. Remind me to tell you about the Superhero Overhaul Program you implemented. If we have time of course."

Minion pursed his little lips. It still sounded much too dangerous to him. Too bad he couldn't talk to his _own_ alternate self from the other reality because he had a few choice words to say about letting Sir flirt with danger so carelessly.

"I look forward to hearing about it," he said darkly, but then he returned to his naturally optimistic self. "Well, I have good news."

"What's that?" Sir asked, still droopy.

"I contacted Sir—my other Sir—and he's on his way home as we speak."

It took barely a second and Sir hopped to his feet. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

He paced back and forth rambling so fast that Minion was hard pressed to keep up with the one-sided conversation. It sounded like he was planning the time travel trip back to his reality. As he strode to and fro, Minion shook his head. Alternate Sir obviously possessed the same manic bipolar tendency to concoct his ideas out loud while practically wearing a trench in the floor.

Funny how things hadn't changed _that_ much.

Wayne Scott exited his private jet with relief. He really hated flying. It always put him on edge. Turbulence was not kind to his stomach. He'd called home to make sure a car would be waiting for him when the plane landed. Though, he'd gotten the oddest response on the other end of the phone line…

"_Uh…did you hear me, Basil?"_

_There was another moment of silence before Wayne's stuffy butler replied._

"_Pardon me, Mr. Scott. But you're not…already…at home?"_

_Wayne chuckled. "Noooo," he said slowly. "I'm on my way to the airport. I'm just coming home early."_

_There was another brief silence. "You…left again…since the last time you were gone?"_

_Wayne shrugged, forgetting that Basil couldn't see him. "Yes, technically, I guess…Basil, have you been sampling my dad's twenty year old Scotch again?"_

_Basil huffed. "I'd never, Sir!" He cleared his throat, apparently shaking off whatever weirdness that had taken hold of the conversation. "The car will be at the airport waiting for you, Mr. Scott."_

Wayne had replayed that conversation more than once to himself. It just didn't make any sense. Nor did the strange looks he got from the chauffeur, the cooks, the maids and of course, there was Basil eyeballing him as he crossed the threshold of Scott Manor. He looked over his shoulder a couple of times. None of the staff had moved from their positions. They kept staring at him as though suddenly realizing he was a blue alien with a giant brain.

Something weird was _definitely_ going on. He picked up the pace and jogged down to the basement. After fumbling with his key and missing the keyhole twice, he managed to stop his hand from shaking and unlocked the door.

"All right, Minion! I'm home!" he yelled, dropping his duffle bag and turning on the lights. "What's the emergency? And would you please explain to me why the staff is acting like they've been hit with a stun gun?"

There was no response to his yelling and that was _really_ weird. Normally, Minion was waiting for him and fussing like a mother hen. The aquatic caregiver, however, was missing. He wasn't in the lab tank. The logical conclusion was that he was in the tank in the bedroom. Possibly asleep or…possibly unconscious. That thought sent Wayne into near hysterics. He ran over to the bedroom, leaned forward to the access panel, let the familiar beam scan his retinas and rushed through the door as soon as it slid open.

Just as he'd suspected, there was Minion, tucked inside the colorful castle's main entrance over the drawbridge, waiting. He wasn't asleep, but his little brown eyes were worried and continually shifted to the right side of the room. Wayne didn't bother to look at what his friend kept staring at because he was too concerned about the so-called emergency. He waited for some kind of response, but the fish remained silent and wide-eyed.

"Minion! Didn't you hear me yelling out there? Why didn't you come out to meet me? _What_ is going on? Why is everyone acting so weird? And why haven't you said so much as 'hi' to me? I mean…you haven't even blinked for the last 1.4 minutes."

He stalked up to the tank and propped balled fists against his hips to wait for an explanation.

Minion smiled, though his eyes were wide like saucers, which really was more of a horrible grimace. He floated out of the castle and up to eye level.

With obvious anxiety he said, "W-welcome, home, S-S-Sir! I hope your…uh, plane was good. Flight was good, I mean."

Wayne pressed his hands against the glass. "What's wrong?"

Minion wrung his little fins together. "Nothing's wrong…exactly, but everything's not _right_ either…exactly."

"Just start from the beginning," Wayne said helpfully. "You can tell me anything, you know. This is _me_."

The first genuine smile spread across the fish's face. "Yes, Sir. You're right." He cleared his throat. "Okay. Here goes. Keep an open mind."

Wayne raised his eyebrows. "My mind is always open. In fact, it rarely shuts down so whatever you have to tell me, I can take."

"Good," he said eagerly, waving his fins excitedly. "Um…we have a visitor."

Wayne blanched. He wasn't good with visitors. Humans didn't mix with his…uniqueness. Even his own parents looked at him sometimes as though surprised to see that he lived in the same house that they did. Immediately the twinges of panic began doing somersaults in his stomach.

"A-a-a visitor?" he squeaked. "Oh, no."

"Now! Now! Don't panic, Sir," soothed Minion. "And remember, you said you could keep an open mind."

"Okay. Mind open," he said in a slightly lesser squeak.

To his astonishment, a figure emerged from behind a bookcase. Wayne was frozen to the spot, but the figure kept moving forward and stopped exactly five feet away. An older, gray-headed man stood opposite him with an expression of unease, hands folded calmly behind his back. Wayne glanced at Minion, who was trembling slightly and trying very hard not to nervously bite his lip with his very sharp fangs.

Wayne cocked his head to one side. "Um…who are you?"

"My name is Megamind. I am…not from around _here_."

"Did we meet at a tech conference somewhere?" Wayne searched rapidly through his ample memories and didn't recall having ever met the older gentleman.

"No, we did not."

"That's certainly an interesting name you have there," Wayne commented.

"Of course it is!" he smugly. "We created it with the utmost humility."

"_We_?" Wayne was beyond confusion and had gone straight into a state of befuddlement.

"You and me."

"Come again?" he asked, rubbing his still swirling stomach.

"You _and_ me. I am you and you are me. Well…in a technical sense, although there are a variety of temporal variances…we are the same person."

Wayne took a step back, holding out his hands to ward off an attack. Minion had just let a psychopath into their house who was about to kill him and sell his body to science! The fish glanced apprehensively back and forth between them.

"Um, Sir? I think you should just show him."

"Show him _what_?" Wayne cried.

"Sorry! I keep forgetting. Not you, Sir, as in Wayne Scott, but Sir…as in Megamind."

The older man reached for a watch on his wrist and twisted some kind of dial. Rather than taking a step back, Wayne jumped back. As the man's image melted away with a flash, he was replaced with…

"Me?" he whispered, stunned.

His twin smirked. "I forget sometimes just how handsome I am."

Wayne's heart pounded in his chest. The early stages of hyperventilation had him gasping for air. It felt like every vein in his skull was ready to burst. How could…it's not possible…something bad...

"Uh oh," Minion said. "I think he's having a panic att—"

"DOPPELGANGER!" Wayne yelled at the top of his lungs, in full freak out mode. "IMPOSTER! PHONY!"

"Now hold on," said the imposter. "I am you! I'm just from another reality. Time travel! I came here in a time machine that I invented on accident. Well, the time machine wasn't an accident, but this world was created by _me_ when I activated it. On _accident_."

"EVIL TWIN!" Wayne yelled, running in circles.

"Sir, you really need to calm down! An open mind remember? Alternate Sir is telling the truth! Just give him a chance to explain!" Minion tried.

Wayne regained some of his motor control back long enough to shout, "Computer! Initiate War Protocol!"

"NO!" Minion yelled. "Not that!"

But the computer was too fast in its execution of the command. Wayne was extremely paranoid of any and everyone stealing his inventions. He'd installed an array of the most sophisticated weaponry, all designed and assembled by himself, into the ceiling of the bedroom. The elaborate arsenal also extended throughout the ceiling in the lab. It was programmed to recognize only his voice commands. Slots in the ceiling opened all across the room and impressive weapons of every shape and size dropped from their hiding places.

"Computer! Shoot the intruder!" Wayne yelled.

Minion disappeared to hide in his castle. Little brown eyes watched in horror as the entire situation was just about to blow up. _Literally_.

The doppelganger's eyes widened in astonishment as no fewer than twenty machine guns, pulsating cannons and flame throwers aimed right at him. But he didn't run or duck and cover as Wayne had expected. Instead he squared his shoulders and opened his mouth.

"Computer! Delay that order!" yelled back the imposter. "And disengage War Protocol!"

Wayne squeaked in fear, not having anticipated that the imposter could mimic his voice and counteract any command he gave the computer. Every weapon retreated back into the hiding places above their heads, now of absolutely no use to him.

The evil twin approached with caution, holding out his hands in a manner he probably thought was soothing, but Wayne was far from soothed. "Would you just listen to me? I'm not an imposter. My time machine brought me here."

Wayne was only half-listening. So the imposter found out about his DeLorean time machine and was now here to steal it. If the guns wouldn't respond to his commands, that didn't mean he couldn't defend himself. Wayne grabbed the nearest thing to him and threw it at the evil twin, which turned out to be one of his many collectors' edition Star Wars lamps. He grimaced as the evil twin ducked and the lamp shattered into hundreds of pieces. That didn't stop his assault though. He grabbed whatever else he could to use as a weapon and hurled every last bit of it at the evil twin.

"Aah!" yelled phony Wayne. "Where's the knockout spray when I need it? Or better yet, the Forget-Me-Stick?"

Wayne chunked a heavy book about computer codes right at the imposter's head, who growled and suddenly charged.

"I don't have time for this!"

The next thing Wayne knew, the doppelganger pulled out a strange looking gun and fired. It was the last thing he saw before everything froze.

Minion sucked in a huge amount of water and pressed his face against the glass. "What did you _do_ to him?"

"Relax. He's just dehydrated," Megamind said, picking up the blue cube. "A little drop of water will bring him back."

Minion's whole body heaved as he struggled to calm his ragged breathing. "Well…that…" He gasped for air. "Was a…disaster."

"Geez! Who knew he'd be such a fraidy cat?" Megamind groused.

"Try looking at it from his perspective," Minion pointed out. "I'd be a little freaked out too if another me showed up."

"Yes, but if he were anything like me—which he's not," he said with a sneer, "Then he would have kept an open mind just as you told him too."

"We'll try again when he wakes up," Minion said hopefully. "You proved it to me so you can prove it to him too."

"Maybe I should tie him up first," Megamind mused. "And I definitely need to cover that mouth with duct tape so he doesn't command more guns to shoot me. An ingenious display, I might add. The formerly e-vil lair has something very similar." He shook his head. "Never thought I'd have to dehydrate myself a second time."

"You dehydrated _yourself_?" asked the alien fish, slightly grossed out.

"Uh huh. But it's also a long story that we really don't have time for either." Megamind looked around the room. "I don't suppose he's got any rope stashed in here somewhere?" he asked expectantly. "Or duct tape?"

"Actually, we do have some duct tape in the lab, but no rope."

Megamind tucked away the tiny glowing cube, feeling a little disturbed that he was carrying himself in his pocket. The first order of business was to get the duct tape, tie up his nervous counterpart and try pleading his case so that Wayne Scott would hand over his time machine. Tying him up suddenly seemed like a _very_ bad idea considering he had gone into full berserker mode only moments ago. It definitely wouldn't help Megamind's request for assistance in getting home, but he didn't know what else to do.

"Where's the duct tape?" he asked, slightly more reluctant, but determined to see it through.

"In the supply cabinet next to the bookcases," Minion answered.

Megamind nodded. "I'll be right back."

He opened the door and collided with a warm body that was on the other side. Hands came up to steady himself and the person he'd run into. He looked down at the narrow waist he grasped between his hands because he didn't have to look up to discover to whom it belonged. He knew simply by feel. Then he slowly raised his head and lightly bumped the tip of her nose with his. Big blue eyes bored into his and he couldn't help but smile as he studied the cute freckles splattered across her cheeks or his favorite—the one that rested slightly to the right of her chin.

"Good morning, Roxanne," he said simply.

**A/N: Hi! I'm so sorry these chapters take me so long. I've had nonstop classes to take and I've been out of town for work…AGAIN…so I just haven't had a lot of time. Plus, my attention had been captured by another fandom that I'm currently developing a story for and will post eventually. And I've also discovered that I'm really wordy. I honestly planned for a shorter chapter so that I could update faster, but it just kept growing and growing. That being said, I will not abandon this story! It's too much fun. The updates are just going to be slow. My guess is that we are now half-way through. Oh, and I apologize for any typos. I was really trying to get this out today.**

**Thanks to everyone that has reviewed. Honestly, you have no idea how encouraging it is and how much I appreciate the kind words!**


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I've been forgetting to add this. Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine.

Chapter 9: It's Mega-déjà Vu

Roxanne's day had begun with a hasty cup of coffee that scalded its way down into her stomach because she really didn't have the time to savor the dark liquid's rich flavor. What had been her first night of some of the best sleep she'd had in a while had produced a consequence. She overslept. By two hours. The couch had proven to be more comfortable than she remembered and she'd awaken on her stomach with the equally soft pillows smashing her face in. Bernard had long since gone to work, not having bothered to even wake her up because his day always started before the sun came up. He had probably just figured she'd wake up on her own, which was the norm. Not that he couldn't have woken her up, but he insisted on being at the library early so he could leave early and get in bed promptly at 9:30.

She had idly wondered exactly what he did all day at the library to warrant such an early start to his day, but quickly pushed that thought aside as the elevator doors cracked open and her news van came into view. Then she had raced into the basement towards her news van, a piece of half-eaten toast in her mouth while she wound a ponytail around her messy couch hair. The drive to the station had been virtually traffic free since she was so late for work. She'd called her boss on the way and he hadn't been thrilled, but understood nevertheless. Tenure was certainly a life-saver.

It was now 9:00am, early by some standards, but late by Roxanne's. Her workday usually started two hours prior to that. Through the years at the station, she'd earned a great reputation for her honest journalism, but in-your-face reporting. All of her hard work had produced a raise and a very nice corner office with a view of the city—something she didn't really want to look at since Mayhem Man had practically demolished the entire block in one of his daily temper tantrums. The only reason the building housing her news station hadn't been destroyed along with the others was that Mayhem liked his fifteen minutes of fame every now and then to remind the citizens that _he_ was boss.

Roxanne had slammed the door to her office with more force than was necessary, rattling the shaky, cubicle-like walls. The voicemail button on her phone blinked impatiently back at her, waiting to be heard and emails flooded her inbox waiting to be read, but she ignored all of them. Something much more important was on her mind.

For nearly an hour she sat at her desk Googling Wayne Scott—much to her extreme embarrassment, which was turning out to be just as tenacious as her reporting skills. Suffering from embarrassment wasn't an affliction of Roxanne's, but as she sat at her desk reading whatever useful information she could find, she became increasingly mortified by her actions. She was a married woman for crying out loud! What business did she have sitting here soaking up whatever tidbit she could get her hands on?

She felt naughty suddenly, like the proverbial kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Thankfully, her computer monitor didn't face the doorway to her office, which saved her from prying eyes in case someone barged in. But she could always come up with a good cover and say Wayne had finally granted her request for an interview. Everyone knew she'd been trying to interrogate him for years so the fact that his images were splashed across her screen wouldn't draw much curiosity from nosy coworkers.

She read articles, watched videos—limited as they were, scrolled through photos and grew more confused as the time passed. What she was looking for wasn't information because she didn't _really_ want to interview the man. No, she wanted an answer to the questions his middle-of-the-night visit was suddenly plaguing her with.

Why did she feel like she knew him when they'd never met before? And why oh why did she want to know so _badly_?

The articles didn't reveal much about his personal life since he'd practically been a hermit for his entire existence. Mostly they talked about his inventions and what advantages he'd brought to society, but never anything about a favorite movie or a favorite food and there was absolutely no reference relating to girlfriends. If he'd ever had any, that is. The usual celebrity gossip just didn't fit into his life anywhere. Even the photos left a lot to be desired. He was either too far away from the camera to be seen or was blocking his face in some way, though the tip of his blue dome peaked above his arm in a way that made his identity undeniable.

Roxanne wasn't looking for the run of the mill gossip, but hoped that some Internet searches might reveal something about why his shrinking violet persona was so different from the man she'd talked to last night. The man who'd claimed from her gentle touches every chance he got. Bernard had _never_ touched her that way. His idea of touching was…well, he never touched her anymore. _Why_ had she married him again? Roxanne was having a tough time remembering at the moment.

Decision made, she closed all the websites she'd been perusing and made up her mind to get it straight from the horse's mouth. After forcing herself to listen to some messages and return a few emails just for show, she took an early lunch and was out of the building, driving away in the news van before anyone knew she was gone.

The drive to Scott Manor was long since the mansion rested on a hilltop at the outskirts of the city, overlooking the skyscrapers. There was a security officer at the main gate entrance who'd given her the third degree because reporters _never_ came to talk to Mr. Scott. She'd flashed her best smile—the one she reserved for her daily viewers and promised to include him in the piece she was doing about Mr. Scott. He'd given in more quickly than she had expected and punched a button to let her through the gates and onto the grounds. People would do anything just to get on TV.

The rest of the staff bestowed her with the same odd looks as the butler Basil, escorted her down to the basement. The inventor's lifestyle fit the nerd checklist pretty well. He was unmarried, a loner and still lived in his parent's basement. This guy really was a hermit if he had never had visitors, striking Roxanne as rather sad. Isolation had been Wayne Scott's choosing, however, but for some reason, he'd put an end to that cycle last night. She'd bet the staff didn't know he was out roaming the streets just to have a chat at midnight.

The butler was her stoically unfriendly guide to Wayne's room in the basement. None of the other staff had dared to question her presence there, but the butler looked to be a very stern man used to ordering people around. Therefore, his expected questions did not catch her off guard as he clandestinely glanced over his shoulder.

"Pardon my asking, Ms. Ritchi, but how do you know Mr. Scott?"

"We spoke over the phone about my interviewing him," she responded, leaving out the part about how that phone call had been over three years ago.

The butler slowed his walk with a skeptical expression. "He agreed to an interview?"

She shrugged. "Well, yeah. It's a long time coming don't you think?"

He narrowed his eyes, obviously still suspicious. "Yes, of course, but…forgive me. It isn't that I don't believe you, Ms. Ritchie—" O_h, no. Of course you don't_, she thought_—_"but Mr. Scott isn't the interview type. He's very shy you see."

"Believe me, I was just as shocked as you were," she said, more to herself than the butler. "He contacted me actually."

At her revelation, the butler came to a complete stop just shy of the basement access door. "Mr. Scott? Contacted…_you_?"

She nodded, unwilling to elaborate just how he'd gone about doing that.

Basil shook his head. "This has been a day for oddities."

"What do you mean?" she asked, impatiently tapping her foot while he fumbled with the keys he'd pulled from his coat pocket. Apparently, they kept the basement locked. What on earth was he hiding down there that warranted a lock and key?

"Last night, there was a monstrous meteor that flew over our heads, which somehow never made it onto the news. I found Mr. Scott wandering about the grounds in one of his costumes, claiming not to have seen the meteor when it clearly passed over him. Then he calls me in the middle of the night to send a car to come pick him up from the airport, telling me that he's ready to come home when I'd just seen him a few hours previously. His behavior has been nothing short of peculiar." Basil looked her up and down. "And now you're here. A reporter to interview our Mr. Scott. And a woman to boot. I've never even seen him talking to a woman. He has a difficult enough time telling his mum good morning."

She lightly punched him on the shoulder. "First time for everything, huh?"

Roxanne didn't give him the chance to answer as he opened the door. She rushed through and closed it behind her, but didn't immediately go down the stairs. In actuality, she was trying to process the information the butler had just spilled. Why would Wayne have come to visit her in the middle of the night while at the same time, call for a car to come pick him up at the airport? Metro City International Airport was at least a thirty minute drive to and from the metropolis because of the heavy traffic. There wouldn't have been time.

Surely Basil must have misunderstood the conversation? Maybe Wayne had already made it home from the airport, but took a detour to her apartment and then called home for a car?

Peculiar indeed.

She couldn't contemplate this further because lights suddenly flared to life in the basement, making her jump. It must have been some kind of motion sensor picking up on her entrance. Her mouth dropped open in shock the deeper she walked into the room. The size of what was apparently a private science lab was sci-fi enough to send the techies of the world into a conniption fit. Even more astonishing was the huge tank of water winding its way around the lab. What on earth was that for? Maybe it was some kind of hydropower technology that provided energy to the entire house. She didn't doubt that Wayne Scott could have invented such a thing considering his genius constantly pushed the known limits of the modern world.

Though this lab would have made a fascinating news report on its own, she wasn't here to marvel at the technologies surrounding the room. The absence of a bed clearly meant this was strictly a lab and that's when she looked to the left and noticed another door. The odds of this being his bedroom were greatly in her favor. With a determined gait, she approached the door and raised her hand to knock, but never got the chance.

The door slid open into a thin compartment in the wall and out popped the object of her visit. Wayne Scott was looking down as he exited the room, not seeing that he was about to walk right into her. They collided and she would have stumbled, but his hands latched onto her waist. His nose gently brushed the tip of hers as he raised his head to look at her, surprise plain in his eyes. _Those eyes!_ She'd known they were green, but having never seen them in person until now left her paralyzed. It had been too dark in her apartment last night to appreciate the brightness of the Kelly green gaze that was watching her curiously. Simply put, they were _stunning_.

"Good morning, Roxanne," he said, still surprised, but he didn't seem annoyed like she had expected considering she had just made an unannounced visit.

Her mouth bobbed up and down slightly as she tried to form an articulate thought, which was difficult considering that he still hadn't removed his hands from her waist yet. "Uh…good morning, Wayne. I'm sure…you're wondering why I just invited myself over."

A ghost of a smile played across his lips. "I'll admit…the thought did cross my mind."

Roxanne blinked, but said nothing back. Not because she didn't know what to say but because she _couldn't_. Gathering her thoughts into coherent English sentences was something of a problem at the moment. He still held her waist, slowly drumming his fingers against her blouse one at a time starting with his pinky. To her surprise, she shivered and then to her annoyance, just the hint of a smirk danced around his mouth. They were close enough to kiss and her eyes darted all over his face, from those _stunning_ eyes to his pointy blue nose and down to the thin black strip of facial hair in the center of his chin. She avoided looking at his mouth at all costs.

_Close enough to kiss…_

He squeezed ever so gently, which pulled her back from the dangerous place she'd willingly let her mind drift towards. She took two steps back, trying to sever the magnetism that was pulling her to Wayne. He released her—with reluctance, she noted as his hands took their time in letting go and then clasped them behind his back, looking positively uncomfortable about having to do so. The smirk was gone and in its place was the hint of a scowl. Was it because she'd moved away from him? That mask of control slipped over his features and she couldn't glean any information from his expressions.

She'd lost control of the situation as soon as she set foot in this basement and that was a feeling Roxanne positively hated. Her purpose in coming to see Wayne today was, _truthfully_, to talk about Mayhem Man—just a small percentage of it anyway—and…well, whatever else came to mind. She was determined not to chicken out. After all, she was a professional. Why not treat this like it was a real interview?

"I wanted to continue our conversation from the night before," she said brusquely, back to being the intrepid reporter. "About Mayhem Man."

His face was blank. "I thought I already told you that he can't be killed."

She shrugged. "Yes, but maybe you missed something."

He shot her a look, eyebrow arched. "Me? Miss something? Don't be ridiculous."

All traces of her earlier befuddlement evaporated as anger took over. "Excuse me, but nobody's perfect. Even geniuses like you. I'm sure you've made your fair share of mistakes over the years."

Wayne looked down at his feet, shoulders slumped a little. "One or two. _Maybe_."

She watched curiously as he fingered something in his pants pocket, but forgot about it a second later. Her jaw set firm, she closed the gap between them intent on having her say.

"Look, all I'm asking you to do is _not give up_. You can't! Everyone else has given up on this city. All we need is someone who's willing to give it a second chance. Someone who'll be a…a…"

A tiny smile emerged on his face as he silently regarded her. Roxanne felt the same rush of…_something_ that she had last night. She nearly growled out loud in frustration because she didn't understand the feeling, but she definitely recognized it. All morning long, that _something_ rested on the tip of her tongue, but her brain couldn't articulate the words.

"A hero?" he suggested softly.

"Yes!" she cried, relieved that he understood and also relieved at the respite from her crazy musings.

"Okay," he said simply. "I'll help the city."

Roxanne almost fell over from the simple agreement to her plea. "Just like that?"

"Well, yeah," he said, shrugging.

Her eyes narrowed. "You're messing with me."

Wayne snorted out laughter. "Roxanne, honestly. I'm not messing with you. I'll do…what I can. Maybe you're right. Maybe all those years of trying to kill Metr-uh-Mayhem Man will help somehow."

She clearly heard the stumble over Mayhem Man's words, but she'd heard something else too. "So…you've been trying to kill him anyway? Even before our little pre-meditated murder plot? That we just now agreed to?"

He hesitated two seconds too long. "Yep!" His eyes shot nervously from side to side and he started fiddling with the object in his pocket again. "Uh…well, this has been a lovely visit, but maybe you should go now so that I can get started on our little plan."

Wayne turned away from her and headed for the basement door at a pace that was much too fast. He was trying to get rid of her. Well, she wasn't about to let him off the hook that easy.

"Hang on. I wasn't finished," she said, effectively stalling his approach to the door. His fingertips curled around the knob.

"You weren't?" he asked, eyes nervously growing wider.

"Why are you rushing me out?" she asked, her suspicions growing.

"Um….well, you're a busy reporter. Places to go. People to interview. You know. That. Sort of. Thing," he said, pulling the door ajar.

"Not today I don't, but I have one more question to ask you."

With a purposefully slow walk, she approached Wayne, heels clicking softly against the tiled floor. The closer she got, the more he fidgeted and the more his eyes flitted around in his blue head, as though he were trying to avoid direct eye contact. Intending to intimidate him, she shoved the basement door shut with one hand and boxed him in with her other. Wayne released a barely audible gasp. Her close proximity made little beads of sweat appear on his brow. He was taller than she was, but not by much. They were practically eye to eye.

She was back in control of the situation. Wayne was at _her_ mercy now.

"Something on your mind?" he squeaked.

"Last night."

"I thought we'd already covered that," he said, glancing fearfully at the arms trapping him against the door.

Roxanne wondered where this sudden irritation of hers originated. Maybe it was because she hated leaving questions unanswered being the investigative reporter that she was by nature. At the moment, however, she didn't care.

"Hardly," she griped. "What was last night about? _Really_?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said too quickly.

"You come waltzing in," she said, ignoring his obvious denial. "Act like we're old friends, _which we're not_, confuse me with the late night conversation about Mayhem Man, repeatedly touch my hand, or my arm, or my shoulder like you're already in the habit of doing it…and then…you almost _kiss_ me! Why? Why did you do all these things? And why do I feel like I know you when we've never met before? Wayne…_why_? Why do I feel it?" She moved one of her hands away from the door and laid it over her heart. "In here!"

He glanced down at her hand, the black of his lashes against the blue of his cheeks strikingly beautiful. Her resolved slipped a little when he raised his eyes again, the pure green hitting her like the well-known ton of bricks. Though her heart beat faster, she stood her ground, meeting his piercing gaze. A long moment of silence passed between them, which slowly drove her mad. What was in his mind? Why was he taking so long to say anything? What were the myriad of expressions all about? Wayne's face went through every emotion she could name in a matter of seconds, the most surprising being sadness.

"What are you hiding from me?" she whispered, unwilling to relent.

A heavy sigh filled his chest. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Roxanne."

She rolled her eyes, making a sarcastic scoff. "If that isn't the cliché line of the century!"

"It's true," he insisted.

"Oh please!" She walked away from him, hands on her hips. "This isn't some cheesy romantic movie where the girl just accepts the ridiculous answer the guy feeds her and walks away!"

His eyebrows rose slightly. "I wasn't aware that our situation mirrored that of a romantic encounter, Ms. Ritchi," he teased.

She blushed furiously and he smirked, which only made her madder. "Don't twist my words, Wayne Scott!"

"I'm not twisting anything."

"Yeah, you are. You're trying to change the subject, but I'm not going to let you get away with it."

"Okay, what are you going to do?" he challenged, looking far too amused for her comfort.

Roxanne smiled evilly and his smirk faltered. She stalked right up to him once again and did something she knew was wrong because she was married to someone else, but she'd been thinking about it ever since last night when it had almost happened. She hadn't been able to think of anything else since. Closing what little distance was left between them, she pressed a feather light kiss against his mouth, her eyes sliding closed.

It wasn't at all what she expected. She had expected to feel surprised, like she would have an epiphany of some kind. No, she felt something entirely different. _Familiarity_. _Reality_. _Truth._ This was her first kiss with someone new in a long time, but there was nothing new about it. The kiss was perfectly chaste, but in its innocence remembrance of something else entirely emerged when he slowly kissed her back, lips molding against hers in a harmony that tingled its way through every fiber of her body and rushed headlong into her soul.

Roxanne had kissed him before and she knew it now.

_Déjà vu. _

**A/N: I'm so sorry has taken me so long! Honestly, nothing else has been written at this point. When I first started out, I had this plan of where I wanted the story to go and I passed that point to where I'm just kind of winging it now. Have no fear though; I do fully intend to continue this story because Megamind, Roxanne and Minion are so much fun to write about. **

**In the beginning this chapter was going to be longer, but I've made everyone wait too long so I cut it in half. The next will be Megamind and Wayne talking. Hmm, I wonder if Megs can calm Wayne down long enough to make him listen? Lol. Also, Roxanne kinda surprised me there. I wasn't expecting her to just kiss him like that! She's an inquisitive sort of gal who wants her questions answered. This story is about time travel and 2 alternate dimensions and I know that typically, the people in the altered version wouldn't recognize someone they knew from another reality when something from the past is changed. However, Roxanne has to be kept in the story, otherwise, there wouldn't really be a plausible place for me to put her. And to use the word cliché again, I wanted there to be a connection between Roxanne and Megamind that spans time. They are meant for each other because they are soul mates and they will recognize each other anywhere. Aaaahh, the clichéd romance. I love fluff!**

**Thanks to the reviewers. Y'all are awesome and it feels like Christmas when I open up my email to see all those lovely review alerts. Oh and thanks to **_**SombodyStandingThere**_**, who brought to my attention that my POVs aren't separating. I most certainly am separating them as I type! It's this stupid website erasing all of my POV separation marks! It always does that to me! I'll just have to figure something else out to use for a POV break. Gosh, that really irks me. I hate this website sometimes! Sorry for my long author's note. It's 1am and I tend to get loopy at such a late hour and also make typos.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine.**

Chapter 10: It's Mega-time

She _kissed _him! Roxanne kissed _him_! Megamind could have gloated about how she would fall in love with him in any alternate dimension, but now wasn't the time to entertain such selfish desires. The circumstances were too dire and he would never do that because there was a real possibility he'd never get home. He might even be killed! So there was absolutely no room left for a gloating fest.

Well…maybe just a little.

She pulled away from him, the look on her face a mixture of satisfaction and confusion. It was slightly perplexing because he had expected her to look surprised; however, she appeared to have just received a revelation through the simple act of kissing. He struggled to contain the grin positively dying to spread from one blue ear to the other, but valiantly refrained from doing so and fixed a neutral expression on his face.

"Déjà vu," she finally said.

"So it would seem," he murmured.

"What's going on?" she whispered. "I know you and yet…I don't, but kissing you just now…I've done that before. I _know_ it."

Megamind stared at her, face blank. How much could he get away with saying? He didn't want to lie—he hadn't lied to her in years now and the thought of picking up that old habit wasn't exactly comforting. They might not be married here, but he was unable to separate the difference. She was _his_ wife. Changing history would never change that, but telling her the truth...would she even believe him? Minion had, but…that was different. _This_ Roxanne may have known about the inventions Wayne Scott had given to the world, but he'd bet no one _except _Minion knew about the time machine in the basement vault or that Wayne had been experimenting with time travel. What then, was the likelihood of her believing his tale?

_Zilch_.

But the thought currently flying around in his brain at warp speed was confusing and yet…more important than his need to return to the correct Metrocity. Somehow, the connection they shared had maintained its hold across the space-time continuum, even though history had been changed and erased her memories along the way. They belonged to each other no matter where they were in the universe and no matter how long they were separated. The weight of this realization was a punch to the gut—one that he welcomed.

He and Roxanne's rather unorthodox relationship didn't completely blossom until some time had passed after Titan's defeat. After all, he'd had a lot to make up for considering he'd secretly paraded around as Bernard for so long. Unfortunately for Megamind, he wasn't exactly privy to the customs of his home planet—except for one. He'd probed Minion's memories for information regarding taking a mate and he had asked years before he and Roxanne were ever a couple—years in which they'd engaged in flirtatious bantering battles. In the past, he'd never believed in his wildest dreams that he'd someday be married to Roxanne. He had been the villain and she had been the damsel—decidedly not the distressed kind. Everything about the bad guy getting the girl went against the grain, but a small part of his heart had clung to a sliver of hope that maybe one day it would be worth his while to know the mating customs of his home planet.

According to his fish friend, their enormously impressive brains were capable of forming a multitude of psychic bonds, or soul bonding as it was referred to on his planet. On earth, soul mates referred to lovers, but on his planet, the definition had been broader. The soul felt more besides romantic love because its power was all encompassing. His kind had been able to form bonds between family, friends and lovers alike. When fate had taken away the chance to form a bond with his parents or anyone else, he'd just assumed that to be the end of it and pushed it from his mind.

There was no such thing as divorce on his home planet. Soul bond between couples lasted a lifetime and now he shared one with Roxanne, but she was human—a species not really known for sticking to commitments. Not that he believed Roxanne would cheat on him, but what if her interest wore off someday? What if she fell out of love with him?

The anxiety and fear of this depressing thought had plagued him for a long time. After Metro City was restored. After the building of the Megamind museum. And even after the two of them became _official. _He had always expected some catastrophe to wake him up from the sweet dream of life with her and put him back in a solitary cell surrounded by a mural that looked like it had been painted by a five-year old.

But then…just now…it had simply vanished. All because of one little kiss. His heart soared at the prospect. The deep-routed bond formed by his kind had subconsciously taken root and since he'd never experienced it before, he hadn't recognized the signs. He'd always wondered if it would happen, but had never believed that he was_ capable _of making a connection like with a different species. To tell the truth, he hadn't dwelled on it much because waking up to her everyday was happiness enough. The bond hadn't seemed necessary.

He wanted so badly to tell her that she wasn't just experiencing déjà vu and that her feelings meant so much more than she realized—except that he couldn't. Not yet anyway.

"Roxanne…" he started, hating what he was about to say. "You…have to leave."

She pushed away from him, looking as though she'd just been slapped. "What?"

"I wasn't finished!" he interrupted hastily, reaching for her hands, but she jerked them away. "You didn't let me!"

"Then you'd better start now!" she said, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"What I was going to say was that I do need you to leave now, but I want you to come back later."

"Not on your life, pal! I want explanations now."

"You'll get them tonight. I promise." Oh, he probably shouldn't have said _that_. Now he was locked into the truth, but her unexpected arrival this morning hadn't really left him with another choice. "Course, you'll probably have to let _Ber-naaard_ know that you'll miss dinner." His nostrils curled in a sneer just thinking about the man.

"Who? Oh." She blinked and shook her head.

He could have turned a somersault. Fighting back a cheer of triumph was proving _extremely_ difficult. That kiss had been spectacular enough to briefly erase her memory of that wife-stealing, drone-voiced dweeb—

"Hello? Wayne, are you even listening?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, what was that?"

She huffed and placed her hands on her hips—her no nonsense pose. "I said that I'll come back tonight at 7:00 and if I don't get an explanation…" She pointed a slender finger at his nose, her fingernail lightly grazing the tip. "You'll _never_ see me again."

The truth of those words was like a whack from the forget-me-stick.

"I know," he said, nodding slowly. "I just have some things I need to take care of first and then…then we'll talk. Okay, Roxanne?"

He couldn't help the urge to place a hand over her fist, where it still rested against her hip. She didn't look, but cut her eyes down and then sharply back up to meet his gaze.

"Okay," she agreed.

She didn't try to shrug him off nor attempt to move away from him again. The brief perfect moment as they stared into one another's eyes was suddenly shattered by a very frantic fish rocketing through the water yelling, "SIR!"

Both he and Roxanne jumped. Megamind's heart thumped against his rib cage painfully. Roxanne had laid a hand over her heart and let out a big gasp.

"What's wrong, Minion?" he asked, alarmed, looking up at the tank.

The fish stopped short, momentarily disappearing in a cloud of bubbles as they caught up to him. His little body heaved with the fast swim, eyes bulging when he noticed Roxanne, who stared back, mouth wide open in what could only be shock. Megamind glanced between the two. He was so used to everyone knowing about Minion that he hadn't considered anyone _not_ knowing about the talking alien fish.

"You have a talking _fish_?" she whispered, confirming his thoughts.

"Uh…yeah," he said, voice wavering. "His name is Minion."

"W-what…h-how can…?" she spluttered. "Is…did you _invent_ him? Or…something?"

He chuckled. "No, we came to Earth together. Minions are very special to my species. They are caretakers. By the time an infant is up and walking—exactly nine days after birth—we are given a minion. My parents gave him to me one day early considering the planet was seconds from being sucked into a black hole. He's been with me ever since and he will be for the rest of our lives."

He glanced at his best friend for support and got nothing. Minion had apparently never interacted with anyone outside of Scott Manor and fearfully looked between the two. This was definitely a first for the fish. A woman in the bachelor basement and an investigative reporter at that!

"Sort of like an aquatic nanny?"

He nodded. "But Minion is much more than that. He's my best friend too."

The little fish blushed. "Thank you, Sir."

Roxanne approached the tank, sharp eyes taking it all in. "How have you managed to keep him a secret?"

Megamind did some quick brainstorming and formed a logical explanation.

"Minion doesn't leave the basement for obvious reasons. He can't leave the safety of the tank and even if he could, it would be too dangerous. Scientists would abduct him and chop him into fish bait if they got their grubby hands on him just for the sake of science." Minion shuddered and he fixed Roxanne with a pleading look. "They would attempt to dissect me too, but I can get away faster. Minion would be helpless. I simply am not willing to risk his life by telling the public about him." Megamind smiled encouragingly at his friend. "It's all right, Minion. You can talk to Ms. Ritchi. She won't rat us out…will you, Ms. Ritchi?"

Roxanne bit her lower lip. He could see the reporter in her just itching to grab a microphone and a cameraman. Minion smiled shyly in the way only he could. He ducked his head, turning his face away slightly and bashfully stared at the woman, blushing when she smiled back.

"No, I won't," she said with conviction. "Sorry I was staring. You're the first talking fish I've ever seen. It's kind of a shock you know?"

"No problem, Ms. Ritchi. It's very nice to meet you."

"And it's very nice to meet you," she grinned.

Megamind restrained an eye roll. Minion just had a way with the ladies—flashing those big brown eyes. Not to mention the fangs—those were a chick magnet back in his timeline. Roxanne apparently wasn't immune to the shy charms of the Piscean either.

"Easy there, lady killer," Megamind said, turning Roxanne's attention back where it belonged—_him_. "Why were you screaming?"

He jerked when Megamind spoke. "Uh…I need you to take a look at something." His eyes quickly darted to Roxanne and then away.

The nervous gravity of Minion's tone meant that he hadn't expected Roxanne to hear his outburst. She seemed to pick up on this as well, suspiciously eyeballing them both.

"Well!" she said, clapping her palms against her legs. "I guess that's my cue to leave. You!" She pointed a finger at him. "Don't forget. I'll be back at 7:00. Sharp!"

"I'll be waiting," he promised.

He stared longingly at the door she walked through, wishing he had his Retracto Beam so he could snag her back. A quick glance at his watch revealed six hours, eleven minutes and eighteen seconds before he'd see her again. So long to wait! He absently tapped his finger against his thigh again and looked down in confusion. Something sharp-edged was bulging in the pocket.

He gasped. _Wayne Scott_! He'd forgotten all about his alternate twin.

"Sir, as much as I'd like to ask how your visit with Ms. Ritchi went, I really need you to come watch a video."

"Huh? Um…oh yes, right. A video? What of?"

"You. And I mean _you_ you. Not the Wayne Scott you."

Megamind froze. "What do you mean _me _me?"

"It's all over YouTube. The fight you had last night with Mayhem's thugs. It even made the news."

"Show me," he demanded.

Megamind watched the incriminating video so many times he had the entire thing memorized. Someone had been hiding in the shadows and he'd missed it. Just below the video was the registered username of the individual who'd posted the recording.

"MetroHunk410," he read. "Oh…you've just messed with the _wrong_ villain."

"I thought you said your days of villainy were behind you," Minion said, brow raising suspiciously.

"They are," he conceded with a disappointed sigh, sinking back into the desk chair. "Being a hero makes _not_ being a villain completely annoying! What I wouldn't do for a relapse right about now." He lovingly stroked his De-gun, imagining how easily the trigger always gave each time he pulled.

"Why would you want to dehydrate that person anyway? He probably didn't mean anything by posting it on the Web. After all, you're a mystery to the world and what human can resist a mystery? People have been talking about you for years. About what makes you tick. Stuff like that."

"Yes, but now the taker of this video knows—or thinks rather—that Wayne Scott is out fighting crime. This could be the start of a big problem considering the amount of hits the video already has."

"Over a million," Minion agreed. He gasped. "What if Mayhem Man sees this?"

"Disaster and we really don't need that right now. Getting home is what I have to concentrate on." He face palmed. "I just _had_ to go and pick a fight didn't I?"

"Catchy name…MetroHunk."

"Probably some pimply teenager. Heh, it could even be Metro, uh, Mayhem Man himself. That walking meat sack would choose a username like that, except he couldn't turn a computer on if it turned itself on for him."

"So…who was watching you then?"

"There are too many possibilities to speculate and right now, it's on the backburner. It's time to rehydrate Wayne. The sooner we talk and he gives me the DeLorean, the better."

"Considering his reaction the last time…" Minion paused. "What are you going to say to convince him?"

"I'm not. _You_ are."

He inhaled a large mouthful of water, which passed roughly through his gills, making him cough. "_Me_? I mean…w-what can I…I don't think that—you, I mean _he_, completely freaked out!"

Megamind smirked. "That's exactly why it has to be you." He climbed onto the stool and then the lab table so he could look Minion in the eye. "I can't think of anyone more capable of convincing him that we're telling the truth. In all the years that I've known you—in both realities—I've always listened to you…well, _eventually_ at least…because deep down I knew that you were right. It's what the minions were bred for…to give advice, be a sounding board and more importantly…to be a best friend." He shrugged simply, not knowing any other way to put it. "I have the utmost confidence in you, Minion."

The little fish swelled just a bit. "But what will I say?" he asked quietly.

"You'll figure it out," he said firmly, patting the cool glass of the tank before jumping off the table.

He took the blue cube from his pocket, set it on the floor then removed the De-gun from its holster. He'd added new features to the weapon, including the copies, but he still missed the _real_ gun. It was a much more elegant weapon for a hero of his exquisite taste. But the copy would just have to do. Of the new features, the hilt was hollow and carried a small amount of water within it for the quick rehydration of whatever had been dehydrated. He hadn't used it very much, preferring to hand over criminals to the police as a blue cube instead of letting them walk on two legs.

"Where will you be?"

"Invisible." He held up the wrist that wore the projection watch. "I recently made an upgrade to this thing. If my car can be invisible, why can't I?" He spun the dial and vanished in a flash of blue.

"Are you sure?" the fish asked the empty space below his tank.

"Minion, I am _always_ sure. You need to soften him up a bit before I let the axe fall." He changed the setting to Hydro and aimed the gun at the cube. "Here goes."

A thin stream of water shot towards the cube and the _real_ Wayne Scott reappeared with a pop. He shrieked like a banshee and spun around, eyes bugged as he frantically searched the room. Megamind took a few careful steps away from him and waited behind one of the lab tables to keep a barrier between them just in case Wayne got close enough to bump him.

"Where is he?" he hissed. "Where's the doppelganger?"

"He's…around," Minion said vaguely, eyes darting to and from the spot where Megamind had vanished.

"Around? What do you mean? Where and w_hat_ is he?" he hissed again, as though afraid raising his voice would summon the so-called 'doppelganger'.

Minion smiled gently. "One question at a time, Sir and I promise that each question _will_ be answered."

Megamind rested his elbows on the lab table, dropped his chin into his hand and watched as Wayne floundered from one end of the lab to the other, peeking behind the bookcases, under the lab tables and around the Tesla Coils. Then his alternate self froze and slowly turned to face Minion.

"Wait a minute. He's_ invisible_!"

Megamind's elbow slipped off the edge of the lab table making him almost knock his ample forehead onto the cold metal. He should have expected Wayne to guess the truth so quickly since they possessed twin brains of incomparable genius. Come on…it was just so _obvious _that a brain like his could not be duplicated in anyone but himself.

"Uh…what?" said Minion, eyes widening in alarm.

"Where is he?" Wayne asked again and without waiting for an answer, he straightened his posture, balled his fists and demanded of the entire room, "I know you are here, imposter! Come out! _Now_!"

Megamind didn't dare move a muscle. He was surprised at this show of bravado from his carbon copy considering Minion's insistence that Wayne Scott was basically a wallflower scared of his own shadow. Perhaps some courage did exist within Wayne in this timeline. Wayne was, after all, just as much Megamind as Megamind was Wayne. Though they had different upbringings they were, in essence, the same person. It stood to reason that Wayne's bravery was there, but had been lying dormant.

"Sir, I need to talk to you first before the other you appears," Minion forged on.

Wayne, however, was too busy wandering around the lab looking for any sign of the invisible man and paid little attention to Minion's continued insistence that there was a _lot_ to talk about. He muttered to himself as he checked and rechecked the same shadowy corners of the lab, looked under the lab tables _again_ and opened the supply cabinets several times more just to ensure that the imposter hadn't squeezed inside when Wayne's back was turned. Megamind watched with interest, wondering if he was this obsessive compulsive when trying to accomplish a goal.

_Nah! _He was far too controlled to let obsessive notions overtake rational thinking.

"Sir!" Minion yelled sharply, successfully freezing Wayne in his tracks. "Sit down and listen to me!"

"But—"

"Sir, this is _very _important and I need your full attention," he said, completely calm despite the nervous wringing of his fins.

Wayne narrowed his eyes, giving Minion a shrewd look. "You know where he is."

"As a matter of fact…yes," he confirmed. "He's not going to harm you. I promise."

A frightened squeak escaped Wayne's mouth. He ran over to Minion, eyes wide with horror. "Minion…he's brainwashed you!"

The fish rolled his eyes. "Hardly. Listen—"

"Minion, can you hear me?" he yelled.

"Sir, will—"

"Minion, if you're in there, I'll save you! If it's the last thing I do!"

"SIR!" he yelled. "Listen to me!"

He shook his head. "I can't, especially if he's brainwashed you. Anything I say could be used against me."

"You and I both know that minions can't be brainwashed. The caretaker bond is too strong to succumb to outside influences. That's why my species was chosen to be a caretaker in the first place." The blue alien folded his arms, but remained quiet. Encouraged, Minion tried again. "I know this will be hard for you to believe…but you must."

"Point taken, Minion," he said, pouting. "So…you haven't been…brainwashed?"

He sighed, exasperated. "Not even close, Sir. I'm fit as a fiddle." He took a long and deep breath. "Please just listen to me because this is very important."

Wayne took a seat on a lab stool and looked expectantly up at the tank. "All right, I'm listening. What's the 'imposter' want?" he asked, sneering when he said _imposter_.

Minion took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "Sir, the 'imposter'," he said, flapping his fins to make quotation marks, "is _not_ that at all."

"So what is he then? A fan of my work so obsessed that he had plastic surgery to look like me?" he asked sarcastically.

"Not even close. He looks…like you…because he _is _you."

He snorted his disbelief. "Riiiight. Minion, you know what happens when you eat fish flakes that are past their expiration date; you get a little loopy. Either that or he wants my inventions…or he's forcing you to lie for some villainous reason."

He fixed a stern expression on his face, glaring down at his friend. "Sir…minions don't lie, especially to our charges. I've _never_ lied to you and I _never_ will."

Wayne slumped a little on the stool, lowering his head in shame. "No, you haven't," he agreed quietly. "I'm sorry, Minion."

The fish softened at his dejected charge's droopy face. "It's okay, Sir. Your reaction was normal and one hundred percent expected."

He nodded. "Seeing _me_ looking at _me_ was kind of a shock." He straightened his back, appearing ready to listen again.

Minion thought he might as well just drop the bomb. "Two words: time travel," he said simply.

Wayne made a scoffing noise and then stilled, green orbs growing wider as he processed the two words. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Time travel is possible!" Minion insisted hurriedly lest Sir try interrupting again. "And _he_—the alternate version of _you_—came here from an alternate version of Metro City. He also invented time travel and accidentally created our timeline and he needs to get back to his own reality, but the time machine was badly damaged and I figured since we happen to have an extra time machine collecting dust in the sub-basement that you might be willing to let him use it to get back home?"

Minion had hesitated briefly and said '_let him use it' _rather than _'give it to him' _because Wayne was very possessive of his tech toys. His friend's eyes were so large that they looked like green golf balls about to pop out in hysteria. The wheels in Wayne's mind spun into overdrive while he tried processing the bombshell just delivered.

He opened his mouth and then closed it only to open it a second time, shaking his head. "I don't see how that's possible."

"But it is."

"There are too many variables. I've never tested it of course, but every last little detail would have to be perfect, otherwise, the universe would explode or it would skew the timeline up royally."

"This is the skewed timeline," Minion insisted again.

Wayne was already shaking his head. "In theory, the calculations I made should work, but they are only theories with no scientific proof to back them up. When you get right down to it…" He threw his hands up. "The science is…impossible."

Megamind could not stop the barking laugh that exploded out of his mouth.

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Life is soooo busy and I have so little time for writing right now. Still plugging along though. I apologize for typos and missing words and grammatical mistakes. **

**Okay, you're asking yourselves, "Why didn't Megamind use the invisibility feature when he was walking back to Scott Manor so that he wouldn't get cornered by all those Mayhem thugs and not get himself caught on camera?" Excellent question and thank you for asking. Here's my explanation: I hadn't thought of it yet. Actually, I think Megs should have a mini version of invisibility for the watch. It just seems practical and even though it's a little after the fact, I couldn't resist adding it to the story. You never know…it might come in handy later! Also, Megamind was looking for a fight because of seeing Roxanne and Bernard as a married couple.**

**A big thank you to OveractiveImaginer for asking why Roxanne didn't come across the video that Hal had posted of Megamind's fight on YouTube. That's because I'm pretty sure it was after 1am when I wrote that chapter and I tend to get loopy at such a late hour and end up forgetting things. I'll be sure to add Roxanne's reaction to that in the next chapter.**

**Oh and 70 reviews! Suuuuhwweeet! Thank you so much. It's so exciting to see my inbox full of reviews and it's even more uplifting that you all still like it. It has been my most popular story so far and I was thinking that I'd be done in about 14 chapters, but it will be past that, but by how much I don't know. **

**P.S. What do you think of the soul bond? I think with a brain as large as Megamind's, that his species is bound to have some kind of psychic power. That's why Roxanne vaguely remembers him.**

10


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine. References to the movie **_**Back to the Future**_** do not belong to me. **

**A/N: I'm trying out different things to break up the points of view for each scene because this stupid website keeps erasing everything. Does anyone have suggestions as to what I can use to break up the paragraphs? Each point of view change will be marked by OOoooOO.**

Chapter 11: It's Mega-crunch Time

The figure shrouded in black crouched low, creeping along the ground. Hawk eyes swept the perimeter, noting each blade of grass as it moved in the wind and observing every breath the enemy took. He was surrounded in each direction, but they could not see him for he was a ninja, trained in the art of invisibility. They could not hear footsteps because his superior stealth was silent as the dead. The enemy never saw him coming, never had the chance to defend against his ferocious attack. The unsuspecting victim was caught by…

"The stealth of a ninja!"

A punch to the head. His opponent went down.

"The strength of a bear!"

He launched into the air with the grace of a cat and the speed of a cheetah, using their heads as stepping stones. Only a few more feet until he cleared the high wall of the prison. They were all fools. No prison could hold a great warrior of cunning intelligence like himself. His skill in the ninja arts was unmatched. Every master knew only fools didn't prepare for battle. The fools died first. The warriors lived to fight another day.

Shouts coming from behind meant that reinforcement was coming to stop the escaping prisoner. He ran along the top of the prison wall as ninja stars whizzed through the air, his agile frame dodging every weapon. He was a one-man army—an unstoppable force. The size of the commando coming after him had more than doubled. That wouldn't be enough to stop him—the greatest ninja that ever existed. The greatest ninja that could even make Chuck Norris beg for mercy like a little girl…

His broken ankle had other ideas, however, as it suddenly twisted in the too big walking boot strapped to his leg with duct tape. His foot slipped off the side of the prison wall—or what was actually the back of a couch and technically, the prison was his apartment. The bouncy balls subbing for ninja stars rolled willy-nilly across the floor, having been tossed against the wall for him to dodge. The minute he had climbed onto the back of his lumpy, secondhand couch, the frame along with his damaged ankle buckled, launching him into the air. Arms windmilling, he tried to regain balance, but his beer gut was so far forward there was nowhere else to go except for the pile of pizza boxes stacked on the toilet.

"WHOA!"

The greasy cardboard tower scattered and Hal conked his forehead on the edge of the seat, knocking himself silly. His face slid down the rounded porcelain bowl with a squeak and landed on the dirty carpet with a soft smack. He groaned as shooting pains traveled up his leg.

"Duuude, that sucked," he groaned.

As he stood up, keeping weight on his good leg, he slipped on a bouncy ball and stumbled around until he landed face down on the broken couch, a pile of scattered comics and dirty underwear left in his wake. At least it was softer than the toilet.

To say the least, the couch was very broken, sporting a bent frame and one arm rest was completely torn off. Clearly, he was a ninja who didn't know his own awesome strength. With a few more grunts and groans, Hal got to his feet and limped toward the front door. It was time to go. He stopped to check his appearance in the mirror, wearing all black with a ski mask to cover his face. There hadn't been time to go shoplifting for real ninja gear with Mayhem breathing down his neck about spying. When the villain said, "jump", you were expected to say, "off which cliff?" The little exercise in stealth had been to prepare for his silent assault on the nerdy blue recluse Wayne Scott.

Hal had managed to steal a new smartphone off an unsuspecting Metro City pedestrian earlier that morning since Mayhem had crunched his into bits. His plan was to sneak onto the grounds, hide in the forest surrounding the mansion and record more sightings of the alien in action, hopefully returning to Mayhem with useful information as to what Scott was up to. He shoved the phone into the back pocket of his baggy jeans, pulled the too-tight shirt over his rotund tummy and rubbed an aching forehead on the way out the door.

He stared at the boot as the elevator squeaked all the way down to the lobby. It was a cheap piece of stolen crap. Since it was too big, it offered no support whatsoever and clinked with each step because the material covering the sole had worn away to reveal the scuffed frame. There was no way his super cool ninja skills could save him with a clinky boot. He would just have to keep to the grassy lawns of the forest surrounding the Scott mansion.

The walk from the elevator to the street was exhausting. His chest heaved from the exertion as he approached the edge of the curb. The pulsating pain in his ankle was bad enough that he considered going back to his apartment. Not that he had been planning to walk to the Scott mansion, but his neighborhood was a little ghetto and taxis rarely drove through unless they were stolen. Yep, his lumpy mattress was starting to sound very good. Maybe if he explained to Mayhem how horrible he felt then the bad dude would give him a couple days off. After all, his ankle was just broken _yesterday. _

He barely took a step back before being grabbed from behind. Clamps of iron flesh closed over his arms, rendering his immobile.

"Where do you think you're going?" the angry voice of Mayhem snarled in his ear.

"Uh…" Hal hesitated, afraid to say what he'd really been thinking about.

"That's what I thought," Mayhem growled.

Without warning, the villain shot into the sky taking Hal along for the super fast flight, let him go and then dove to latch onto his ankle—the one that Mayhem had carelessly broken. Hal's shrieking could be heard all across the city as he watched the ground shrink below him at alarming speeds. He dangled wildly in the air. The only thing keeping him from falling was Mayhem's vice grip that he kept loosening every few seconds, chuckling to himself as Hal's shrieks grew to little girl proportions.

Downtown Metro City whizzed underneath him as they flew over the buildings. Hal flailed from side to side, yelling when Mayhem flew too close to the skyscrapers. He screeched like a cat as his head missed the glass structures by inches. Thinking it was the end, he covered his face, praying for the flight of certain death to be over.

"Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop!"

"If _you _don't make it stop, then I'll toss your fat head into Metro Tower!"

Hal peeked through his fingers and let out another yell of fear as the grassy lawns of Scott Manor loomed closer. Just as the ground had rushed away from him seconds before, now it was rushing back as the earth grew bigger and bigger. Certain he was about to slam into the earth, Hal covered his face again.

But nothing happened. He dared to peek and glanced up at Mayhem, who'd stopped a hair from the ground. He opened his hand and abruptly let go. Hal fell into a twisted heap on the grass. His racing heart beat a wild rhythm against his ribcage and he struggled to get a deep breath, willing the spinning in his head to stop.

Mayhem wasn't going to waste any time, however. "Get up." Hal hesitated, but only because he was in so much pain. "_Now!_"

He carefully got to his unsteady feet. His entire body trembled due to the near death experience and his ankle felt like it was the size of a grapefruit. At least the swelling made the boot fit better anyway. Mayhem glared at him, impatiently tapping a leather boot against the grass.

"What did you do that for?" he grumbled. "I could have taken a cab."

"I fly faster than you can hail one." Mayhem shrugged one shoulder. "…and you looked like you needed a friendly nudge."

It was now or never. "Um…well…I was hoping…maybe…we could postpone our little spy game?"

Mayhem stalked up to him with deadly calm. "You mean you were about to chicken out."

Hal's jaw flapped nervously. "NO! Dude, no! My ankle is broken and let's face it, I'm not much good hobbling around like all lame and stuff."

"Your broken turkey leg is not my problem, Hal, and if you make it my problem, I'll handle it the way I handle all of them: I'll squeeze your neck until your head explodes."

"D-did I-I ssss-say broken ankle? No, way man! What I meant to say was that _despite _that it's broken, I can totally fight through it. Like totally. What broken ankle? I don't even notice the blinding pain."

Mayhem sneered. "That's more like it."

Hal glanced around the area they'd landed in and whistled softly. The grounds were vast and they were a good distance from the mansion, which meant he'd be walking—limping—into the cluster of oaks to find a hiding place to spy on Wayne Scott. He glanced back at the villain, whose sequined M was catching the last few rays of the setting sun and just when he started to hobble off to use his awesome ninja skills, Mayhem spoke.

"I'll be back for you sometime tomorrow."

"What? I have stay out here all night?" he cried.

"Yes, you have a problem with that, Hal?" he snarled.

Hal fearfully shook his head, opting to remain silent.

"That's more like it. You'd better have something useful when I return or I _will _squeeze that fat neck," he warned.

Hal couldn't suppress a shudder, knowing full well that Mayhem meant every word. The supervillain took off. The breaking of the sound barrier sent a wave of air at Hal, knocking him backward, but he managed to stay on his feet. As he limped toward the trees, he regretted ever catching Wayne Scott on film. Mayhem hadn't been please to see the video at all and because of it, was crabbier than usual. Like he had anything to worry about. The dude was invincible.

"This is so not funtastic."

**OOoooOO**

The clone stood there in silence as Wayne stared back suspiciously. More than once he was tempted to run and hide considering that he wasn't convinced of the time travel claims yet, but he put on a brave face, tilting his large head back slightly to look down his nose at Megamind hoping to give the impression that he wasn't so easily cowed. His counterpart grinned; appearing amused and mimicked the expression.

Megamind appeared trustworthy…so far…but Wayne wasn't a leap of faith kind of guy. Great scientists and inventors followed the scientific method; therefore, he would be foolish not to apply it to this situation. Faith wasn't something he relied on because it hadn't helped him before. Only good, solid fact had ever given him reason to believe anything.

"So you altered time accidentally using a time machine you invented," he surmised, coming to a stop directly in front of his mirror image.

"I did," he confirmed with a patient nod.

"Building time machines is a hobby of mine too…but it's only conjecture…theory…a pipe dream really."

Megamind scoffed. "Oh come now, Wayne! You know as well as I that the science is a lot more possible than you're letting on."

"Am I?" he shot back. "There's no power source on Earth capable of—"

"The binky! Duh!" Megamind interrupted.

Wayne jumped. He hadn't been expecting _that_. "Did you just say…_binky_?"

"Don't tell me you were expecting me to say the flux capacitor? This isn't Hollywood sci-fi. It's real. _Duh!_"

Wayne touched his chest, feeling the binky through the material. It was his most precious possession and all he had left of his parents—his _real_ parents, not the Scotts. They'd never given him anything that couldn't be replaced with a credit card. The binky was the only remaining artifact from a dead planet. He had never taken it off his neck because he just…couldn't.

"How did you—"

"Because I'm you and you're me, which means I have a binky too!" he cried, getting more frustrated. "How many times do I have to say duh?"

"Stop interrupting me!" he fired back.

"Make me, blue boy!"

"Sir? How can you not believe him?" Minion piped in. "I do and that should be good enough for you!"

"I'm sorry, but I need solid proof—not just his word." He glanced down at the watch on Megamind's wrist. "First you had the image of an old man cloaking you and then you were invisible. Prove that you're not a hologram right now."

Wordlessly, his twin undid the watch and tossed it to him. He planted his gloved hands on his hips, eyebrow arched in smug superiority. The image of his blue counterpart remained in place, never flickering or dissolving. Wayne examined the watch with interest and turned the dial. He yelped when a tiny man with coiffed white hair and a glowing aura replaced his blue body. Megamind smirked down at Wayne's suddenly shorter stature.

"Who's 'dis suppose da be?" Whoa…did his voice just come out sounding like…_Brando's_?

"Space Dad."

"Whussa Space Dad?"

"Long story for another day. Turn the dial in the opposite direction. That'll restore your handsome profile."

Wayne immediately did so and sighed in relief when he held up normal, blue hands in front of his face. "Okay…so you're not a hologram," he said sullenly, tossing the watch back. "What are the disguises and invisibility for?"

"Uh…crime fighting," he said vaguely, strapping the watch back on.

"You…fight _crime_? You're kidding right?"

"As a matter of fact, no. I stop criminals…rescue damsels…recover stolen property…"

Wayne shook his head in disbelief. This story was getting crazier by the minute. "So you're some kind of a…superhero?"

Megamind grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm _the_ superhero and I'm very good at what I do. A lot better than Metro Man ever was. Wearing ridiculous fringe and keeping hair product companies in business with his over usage of hair gel was the only conceivable thing he was good for."

"Wait…Metro Man? Who is that?"

The alien twin stamped his foot impatiently. "I really don't have time to play 20 questions. I'm on a very tight schedule."

Wayne folded his arms defensively and shot back, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were in such a hurry to get back to your Goth concert."

Megamind's nostrils flared. "This is superhero regalia, thank you very much."

But he was already shaking his head. "Whatever. Get out of my house or I'll call the police."

"Go ahead," he challenged. "I very much doubt this crime-infested city's police force will fare better against me than Mayhem Man."

Wayne ignored Megamind calling his bluff. "Look, you just waltz into my home, touch all of my stuff, feed me some story about time travel and expect me to believe you without any proof? How do I know you're not a spy come to steal my software designs? Or another alien from my planet that somehow escaped? Or from an alien race that was my alien race's arch enemy bent on my destruction?"

"Paranoid much?" He said dryly.

"Cautious," he countered.

"You know, if you tried having a little faith, Sir, you might be surprised," Minion suggested with a tiny shrug.

Wayne shot him a look.

"I am done tiptoeing around your _delicate _nature!" Megamind cried, veins pulsating at his temples.

"Uh, Sir?" Minion tried. "Giving him a panic attack is not the best idea."

"I don't care. My time machine is damaged, which means I need your DeLorean! If this timeline continues, we are all in danger, especially Roxanne!"

"Who's that?" he questioned, glancing between his twin and the fish.

"UGH!" he groaned, throwing frustrated arms up in the air. He took a very deep breath and glanced briefly to the side, eyes distant as though contemplating something. After a slight pause, he nodded slightly and removed his weird gun from the holster. Wayne shrieked and shielded his body with his arms. "For crying out loud! I'm not going to shoot you, though I'm really tempted because you're pushing it!"

"What are you going to do?" Wayne asked nervously.

"Prove everything to you. Just follow me into the forest."

Wayne's eyes bugged. "Yeah right…so you can axe murder me?"

"Oh, if I wanted you dead, you'd never have gotten to ask all these annoying questions!" he said with a patronizing grin.

Wayne stared in bewildered silence to see that Megamind held out the gun to him barrel first with the firing end pointed directly back at him. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Keep it pointed at me. My life will be in your hands at all times. Afterwards if you think I'm still lying, dehydrate me and let this world of yours continue."

He took the gun and quickly aimed at Megamind. "How do you know I won't just shoot you right now?"

To his irritation, his twin didn't look alarmed to be standing at the business end of his own weapon. As a matter of fact he looked downright smug. "Because if you're anything like me at all, which I suspect you are despite your poor taste in attire and lack of a handsome goatee, then curiosity will overcome caution. My tale of time travel has piqued your interest. You won't be able to rest until you've had all the answers. You can't help it, Wayne. It's the just way our mega mind is wired."

_Megamind_. Well that explained the weird name at least. A lot of things about this bizarre situation rooted Wayne to the spot, but…a lot of the claims Megamind had made were starting to make sense. He knew about the binky…and Minion blindly trusted him. Maybe there was something to this and it wouldn't hurt to give him the benefit of the doubt. For a few minutes at least. If it turned out that Megamind was actually a crazy person in disguise trying to steal his technology, then he'd shoot him.

"I'll bite, but on one condition…"

"Fair enough," Megamind acquiesced. "What do you want?"

"Tell me who Roxanne is."

**OOoooOO**

When Roxanne returned to the news station, she was surprised by the excited whispers circulating in the elevators about a viral video featuring a "hero in disguise". Even more surprising—or shocking rather—was the name of the so-called hero.

"Can you believe that was Wayne Scott?"

"It was probably just a publicity stunt since they're not media fodder anymore."

"Looks like a stunt guy in a blue suit if you ask me."

"Why would an agoraphobic genius fight crime when he can't leave his own house?"

"Mayhem Man is sooooo gonna squish him when he sees this video!"

Roxanne practically ran the remaining feet to her office and quickly shut the door. She dumped her purse on the floor beside her rolling chair and hurriedly logged in to the computer. There was an email sitting in her inbox that she had neglected to open this morning. She eagerly clicked the link contained within and adjusted the volume.

At first she was confused when all the amateur film showed was an older man getting jumped by a gaggle of Mayhem's goons. Her anger flared briefly when no one came to the man's rescue, but it was short lived when she realized he didn't need any help. An average citizen was actually fighting back for a change. Hope ignited within her heart, but she kept wondering when Wayne Scott was going to appear.

She didn't have to wait long.

With a flash, the gray-haired man vanished and was replaced by the blue alien she'd spent so much time with in the past two days. Roxanne admitted a strangled gasp of surprise to see his familiar face and fear that one of the goons would hurt him.

"That's what he did after he left my apartment last night?" she shrieked at the monitor. "When I said someone should stand up to Mayhem Man, I didn't mean by yourself you idiot!"

Even more confusing was the skill Wayne used during the fight. She replayed the video again and again, studying the confrontation. Even though the thugs had started the fight using every cheap trick and weapon they carried, Wayne certainly finished it. Not once did he look afraid for his safety. He fought back with confidence and skill that could only have come from someone used to throwing around punches. Wayne knew what he was doing and he did it very well.

"_What_ is going on?" she asked her empty office, leaning back against the leather cushion of her chair.

The world she was accustomed to was suddenly different. Everything was changing and it all revolved around Wayne Scott. Her entire life she'd known the blue alien to be a genius, but reclusive. Now he was visiting her in the middle of the night, fighting crime like a superhero and kissing her—except that it was technically she that had initiated the kiss. Nevertheless, none of this would be happening if it wasn't for Wayne. It was like she'd walked into another reality where everything was backwards, and strange as it was, backwards was starting to feel normal because in her heart, something was just…off about this city.

All because of Wayne. He'd promised her answers upon her return to Scott Manor at 7:00 o'clock sharp and she wasn't leaving until she had them, even if she had to kiss him senseless to get them. Roxanne's cheeks colored a bit at the thought of senseless kissing.

7:00 o'clock sharp couldn't come fast enough.

A quarter to the hour she rushed towards her news van, keys in hand and glanced all around the parking lot. Many of the employees were still at the station, preparing for the evening broadcast. Cars dotted spaces here and there, but she was alone and had been forced to park at the other end of the crowded lot since she'd overslept this morning. The setting rays of the sun held onto the horizon, still giving her plenty of light to see by, but she wasn't about to throw caution to the wind. Not in this city. It didn't have to be dark for muggings to take place.

Roxanne continued her trek to the van, keeping a vigil eye on the surroundings. The air was too quiet. Not even the normal chirping of birds roosting in the nearby park was audible. There was nothing but silence and a chill rushed over her skin. Someone else was in the parking lot. She didn't have to see them to know they were there, especially when the soft patter of footsteps echoed from behind. That didn't mean it wasn't another employee walking to their car, but when she slowed her pace, so did they. When she stopped, the footsteps did too.

Some no good thug of Mayhem's was obviously following her. This was not fair! How dare that rat make her fear her own city? The van loomed closer. She turned quickly down a row of cars, switching directions every few feet in an attempt to confuse her pursuer. A quick glance over her shoulder showed that no one was there. She was so close to the car!

She hadn't intended to stop, but a slight breeze ruffled her bangs. There was no wind today. Her body froze of its own accord. The van was only a few feet away, but she'd never make it in time.

"Oh, no," she gasped softly.

Roxanne spun quickly, turning a full circle. Still, the lot appeared vacant but for herself. She wasn't going to let that fool her though. The breeze ruffled her hair again. It wasn't just a common thug. This was much worse. Slowly she turned back to the van and inhaled a mountain of air, the scream dying in her throat. A surge of adrenalin rushed through her body, signaling the flight or fight instinct. Neither of the synaptic responses helped because choosing either was a wasted effort when Metro City's notorious supervillain blocked the path to the van.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Roxie Ritchi, my favorite reporter."

Though terrified, she slipped her indifferent reporter's mask on and said, "What do you want, Mayhem?"

He chuckled darkly. She shivered. "That's a loaded question. What _don't _I want?" She cringed when he took a strand of her hair between his fingers. "There's no need to be scared, Roxie. Not yet anyway."

"What do you want?" she repeated tensely.

"You're a very beautiful woman, Roxanne," he said in an eerily soft voice, ignoring her question. "Every time I see you I…start imagining all sorts of things."

Roxanne knew exactly what kind of _things _he imagined. She recoiled when he leaned towards her and his blue eyes turned black. He took her arm in his massive hand and pulled her back when she tried to sidestep him, sliding an arm around her waist.

"After all," he continued, leaning over her. "I'm a man and you are very much a woman."

"Glad to see you passed Biology 101," she said, unable to stop her sharp tongue.

He smirked. "I know a lot more than that, Roxie. Care to let me teach you a thing or two?"

"I've got a husband already, thanks," she answered, pushing against his chest—all the good it did her.

The smirk widened. "Ah, yes. Bernard. I'll bet _he_ never passed Biology 101."

"Is there a point to this? Are you just going to continue harassing me or are you going to tell me what you really came to see me about?"

"Spoil sport. I just want to have some fun," he said, pushing his lip out in a pout.

"I don't like your kind of fun!" she spat.

His lip curled into a sneer and despite her efforts not to show weakness, he squeezed her arm and she hissed in pain as he immediately cut off the blood flow to the rest of the extremity, his fingers roughly digging into the tender flesh of her forearm. Any second now her bone would snap. Roxanne had never realized just how broad he was until his hulking presence loomed over her like death.

A wicked smile stretched across his face and she defiantly stared back, though she trembled like crazy. His other hand came up to caress her cheek. She jerked her head away, but he cupped the side of her face, forcing it back.

She was in no position to make demands, but his domineering sneer sent a wave of fury coursing through her veins. Resisting him wouldn't save her life. Calling for help would only get someone else hurt. He was too strong for her to have any hope of escaping, but if she was about to die, then she wasn't going down without a fight.

"Let. Me. _GO!_"

He laughed at her feeble attempts to punch, kick and even bite whatever part of him she could. It was useless trying to hurt him, but she was so enraged she couldn't stop. Before she realized what was happening, he'd pinned her against the back of the van and knocked her head into the door—not enough to do serious damage, but she saw stars. Her body slackened in his arms as the exhaustion of her physical tirade crept in.

"Wow! You are feisty, Ms. Ritchi, just exactly as I pictured you'd be. The punching and kicking isn't too bright thought. You'll only break vital bones, but the biting…well, we can talk more about that later."

She made a sound of disgust and shook her head, praying it would clear. "If you're going to kill me, stop wasting my time and get it over with."

"I'm not going to kill you—not today. I want something from you."

"You most certainly can't have that!"

Mayhem looked amused. "I _always _get what I want whenever I want and I'd advise you to remember that, Roxie…but that's not what I was talking about."

"I have nothing you want," she said quickly.

"You're a reporter aren't you?"

"Don't tell me you want another interview? You were just on yesterday."

"Something came up…did you see that video of Wayne Scott?"

"Yes," she said, keeping her voice neutral.

"This is my city and we play by my rules. I won't have him disrupting the chaos. He needs to be taught a lesson and I will put him in his place just in time for the 6:00 news." Mayhem lowered his head, pressing his forehead to hers. "And that's where you come in, Roxie. I'll be at Scott Manor at 6:00 and you and your news crew had better be there too. If you're not, Bernard won't be home for dinner. _Ever_. And you…will be free for the taking."

She jumped when Mayhem kissed her cheek, whispering promises to make good on his threat if she crossed him. Before her next breath, he was gone and she sat down on the bumper, leaning forward to let the blood rush into her head. An ugly bruise had already started discoloring the skin of her arm, which ached terribly.

Roxanne wasn't sure how she managed to get into the van without collapsing first, but she did, taking deep calming breaths. She drove over the speed limit towards Scott Manor, wiping the stink of his kiss away. Wayne could fix this. He had to.

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait. The Holidays basically take over all aspects of my life, leaving very little time for writing. Plus, this chapter was a total pain. Don't know why. The awesome thing is that entire last half of the story is in my head, but typing it is a whole other kettle of fish. Chapters don't write themselves people. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. You are the butter to the Megamind bread. Huh, I didn't realize Mayhem could be so creepy. He took me by surprise.**

11


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine.

Chapter 12: It's Mega-Worse

Bernard rolled his eyes when he looked at the clock. Roxanne was late _again_, which wasn't what annoyed him in the first place. It was the fact she hadn't called to tell him that she would be late. Now, his entire routine for the evening was thrown off, which meant his latest gourmet creation was no less frozen than an ice cube. He'd been using Roxie as his cuisine guinea pig since they'd met. Gourmet cooking could be time sensitive depending on the dish and tonight's was no exception. One of the biggest pet peeves of life was the lack of respect for the routine. Didn't she even care? Her job was important of course, but was one little phone call too much to ask?

Then fate rewarded him with a catchy ringtone. It was his wife.

"Finally," he muttered, and not bothering with the niceties, gruffly asked, "Where are you? You're 45 minutes late and the chocolate soufflé deflated. The veggies are soggy and the chicken is so cold it's like I never defrosted it."

"Are you okay?" she asked, out of breath.

"Didn't you hear me?" he complained. "I've wanted to try this recipe for weeks now and the minute I do, you don't even bother to call and tell me you'll be late." When she said nothing in response, he huffed, "Are you even still there?"

"So…you're okay? I mean, you're all right?"

Bernard's signature frown grew more pronounced. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Roxanne sighed impatiently. "It's nothing. I was just…upset last night and you left without saying anything this morning. I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"So you wait all day to call me and ask?" he said dryly.

Her irritated tone was a pretty good indication that her lips were tightly pursed into a line. "You know what, you're right. I should have called sooner. Look, I'll be late. Got an interview with Wayne Scott about that video of him stopping Mayhem's goons."

"Yeah, I saw it too," he said disinterestedly, glaring at the flat soufflé.

"I'll call you when I'm about to head home."

"Roxie, you're being weird and you know I don't like it when you're weird. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Bernard, nothing. Just…everything's fine."

"Okay. Whatever," he shrugged. If she wasn't going to tell him, then he wasn't going argue about it. "I'll keep your dinner in the oven on 250—not that it'll do any good. The soufflé's already a pancake."

"Then you'll just have to make it for me again this weekend and if I'm going to be late, I promise I'll call."

"That's something I guess," he grumbled, not in the mood to be forgiving.

She mumbled her goodbye and didn't wait for him to say it back before hanging up. He stared at his phone a little longer before stuffing it back in his pocket.

Bernard was a pretty even keel kind of guy. He didn't panic. He didn't get excited. He didn't overreact. Emotion was something he just didn't do, which had earned him the nickname "Bot Boy" by the unsupervised brats who hung out at the library, which had caught on with some of the other librarians too. So the fact that he felt an odd stirring in his chest over his wife's strange phone call was something of a mystery.

Roxie had been very weird, which was uncharacteristic and if he had to admit, unsettling. She didn't make calls like that. In fact, they really didn't call each other, mostly because he found phones to be a waste of time considering that he'd see her face to face once they both got home from work. A cell phone was just a basic necessity. Nothing more and nothing less. Something was bothering her though, which was bad news for Bernard. The apple cart was about to turn over, sending fruit careening in every direction and disrupting his deeply regimented life. Before that happened though, he might as well eat some dinner.

He sat at the table with a solitary meal, TV remote in hand and flipped to a 24-hour news channel. Stocks were low in Metro City. He couldn't remember when they'd ever been high. On the other hand, crime was up—also not much of a shocker considering the city's alien dictator ran a pretty mean ship.

He glanced briefly at the balcony doors and the darkness outside. Roxie was out in that alone. The woman was fearless—not her best quality sometimes when it put her in danger, but trying to talk her out of going would have been an exercise in futility. She was very headstrong, which was putting it lightly.

"Crazy is more like it," he mumbled, taking a bite of the chicken.

He turned his attention back to the television. The journalists had moved onto another, more depressing topic. Crime was so bad in Metro City that they made the National news nearly everyday. They were always breaking records—the bad ones.

"…_and as Mayhem Man's reign of terror continues—" _stated the journalist, _"Destruction has trickled across the borders of Metro City and into neighboring states and even other continents. Derailed trains and traffic accidents have resulted in the loss of many lives. Earthquakes erupt in countries not known to experience them, causing a catastrophic shifting of landmasses under the sea, which has generated alarmingly high waves to crash into and flood seaside cities."_

The journalist paused and took a shaky breath. _"The atrocities continued earlier this morning when the Eiffel Tower vanished, taking the tourists with it. Search and rescue efforts are forestalled, however, due to the fact that the landmark has not made a reappearance. The supervillain then made his way to Italy…"_

Bernard was, for once in his life, taken aback by the image of Mayhem Man blatantly ignoring the danger he caused to the lives of everyone around him. He was pushing against the side of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the landmark known for its peculiar angle. The ancient building was slowly straightened and the bystander's camera zoomed in on the villain's laughing face. The tower had recently been reopened to the public and tourists were running to and fro, trying to escape in the event of collapse. Then Mayhem went to the other side of the tower and began pushing it back. He went back and forth, pushing it one way and then the other.

The journalist was saying, "_Shortly after Mayhem Man left, the steel supports put into place by top engineers to stabilize the leaning structure, buckled after the supervillain repeatedly pushed it back and forth. The well-beloved monument is now sinking at an alarming rate. Rescue teams braved the danger to evacuate any tourists still trapped inside. The ancient building has been roped off because the stones that were used to build it are crumbling and falling to the ground…"_

Bernard looked away from the TV and shook his head because he could do nothing else. No one could. Mayhem Man wouldn't stop because there was no one to make him. He was determined to bring down the entire world simply because he could.

"Aaah…I just love highlight reels, don't you? Especially since the camera loves this mug."

Bernard spit out a mouthful of water. The glass slipped from his hand and shattered as it crashed onto the tabletop. He turned slowly toward the balcony, where the voice had come from and his heart dropped to his stomach. Mayhem Man was casually leaning against open balcony doors, which Bernard distinctly remembered closing. Thick arms were folded across an even thicker chest, his legs crossed at the ankles. Moonlight filtered in through the open doors, giving his greased hair the appearance of an oil slick. The uninvited guest sauntered over to the table. Though his 6'5" frame was huge to begin with, he seemed to grow taller the closer he got, towering over the librarian's meager height. Bernard leaned back automatically.

"Roxanne's not here," he said suddenly, thinking that the supervillain was looking for more camera time.

"Aren't you going to ask me to sit down?" Mayhem hissed, lip curling.

Bernard's jaw clamped shut. A blank stare was all he could manage to offer his intruder.

Mayhem leaned down, hands gripping the edge of the table and whispered coolly, "It's polite to ask your guest to sit down." The wood snapped. Two identical cracks splintered across the table and his dinner plate slid downward, slopping food everywhere.

Bernard stared at the cracks. That was Roxie's favorite table. Her parents had given it to her as a housewarming gift when she moved into this apartment. It was an antique—over 80 years old. She would be devastated.

"Won't you sit down?" he asked in an emotionless tone.

"That's better!" he said, cuffing Bernard on the shoulder so hard he was thrown forward, but he stopped short of smacking his head against the lopsided table.

Mayhem crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair, looking completely at home. Bernard just stared, unsure what was expected of him. Escape never entered his mind because foolhardy ideas didn't work when an invincible villain decided to drop by.

"You're not exactly being a gracious host, Mr. Roxanne, considering your guest is thirsty. Get me a beer."

Wordlessly Bernard stood and went into the kitchen, opening the fridge with shaky hands. He reached for the beverage without seeing it and barely felt his hand close around the bottle. Mayhem's arrival had switched his brain to an automatic pilot setting.

Mayhem snatched the beer from his hands and flicked the cap off with his fingers. It shot across the room into the wall with the speed of a bullet. Muffled screams of the residents next door drifted through the other side. Bernard winced, hoping no one was bleeding…or worse. He glanced back at Mayhem man, who emptied the bottle in three seconds with a super gulp. A drunken supervillain on the loose in the city was definitely a bad idea.

"Um…should you be doing that?" he asked.

"Doing what?" Mayhem said irritably.

"Drinking and driving…or flying."

He grinned. "I always drink when I fly." He shook the empty bottle at Bernard. " 'Nother round, man."

Bernard retrieved a second beer and plopped down into the chair, heart beating fiercely against his chest. Mayhem's eyes flickered in his direction and he smirked. Undoubtedly, his super hearing caught every frantic beat of Bernard's pulse.

"What do you want?"

"How's the old ball and chain?"

The frantic beating of his heart stopped cold. "What did you do to her?"

He shrugged. "Nothing…yet. Although I have a few…ideas." Mayhem tossed the empty bottle over his shoulder where it shattered upon impact with the wall. Droplets left dark stains in the wallpaper. "Little Miss Nosey Reporter is on an errand for me."

Bernard didn't like the sound of that. Roxie wouldn't have willingly agreed to anything unless Mayhem had made a serious threat.

"We ran into each over in the news station parking lot," Mayhem continued, "and had a very nice chat. Beautiful woman. Soft and curvy. Don't know how she ever ended up with a guy like you."

Insults didn't faze Bernard. He was used to them. "What are you making her do?"

"I want to talk to Wayne Scott about the little home movie currently making its rounds on the Net."

"You mean you want to kill him on national television," Bernard deduced.

Mayhem's face brightened. "You catch on fast. I guess she married you for your brains then. Couldn't have possibly been for anything else."

Bernard just blinked at him. "Why did you come to see me?"

The villain leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Well you know Roxanne. She's a strong-willed woman, sometimes to the point that I'd like to crush that slender throat of hers for all of the backtalk." Bernard swallowed hard. "She's been forgetting her place lately, especially with that heartfelt plea to Metro City she made a couple days ago." He rolled his eyes. "It sounds like she's trying to start a little revolution against her merciful dictator. A dictator whose mercy has just about run out. Now all of the sudden Wayne Scott answers her call, fights back, and has the nerve to beat up my best guys. Who'll it be next? You? The mayor? The citizens? No…that just won't do, Bernie."

Mayhem stood up, the leather of his black pants creaking and stared down at the much smaller with a terrifying glimmer in his cold blue eyes.

Bernard sunk into his chair. "Are you going to kill me as punishment because you don't trust her?"

He wagged a finger at him. "You are too smart for your own good. Yes. I am going to kill you." Bernard held his breath. "But not tonight." He let it out with a whoosh. "Right now I just need some insurance."

"What errand did you send her on?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"She's on her way to the Scott mansion to set up an interview with Wayne."

"Then why do you need me for insurance? It sounds like she's doing exactly what you wanted."

"Like you, she's also too smart for her own good and I don't trust her. Considering that Wayne Scott is trying to change the status quo of this city and that she's the one who probably planted the idea in his head in the first place, well I wouldn't put it past them to cook something up together."

He walked over to Bernard, hoisted him up by the shoulders and pulled him towards the balcony.

"The citizens of Metro City, especially Wayne and your wife must be taught a lesson. They can't just up and decide to revolt. I have enough on my plate as it is. So an example has to be made and you are going to be a hero Bernard—a martyr really."

"A casualty of war is what it sounds like."

"Whatever phrase floats your boat, my man."

Bernard stumbled slightly as he was pulled out onto the dark balcony. Mayhem glanced down at him. The characteristic smirk he always seemed to wear on his face was absent, replaced by a pair of eyes that were as vacant as the dead. Bernard looked away, unable to meet that empty gaze and shivered. It was a wonder people didn't drop dead spontaneously from those horrible eyes alone. The supervillain's face was void of any recognizable emotion.

The librarian knew exactly how this was going to end and he was powerless to stop it. He wasn't afraid, which surprised him a little. It's not that he wanted to die, but all he could think about suddenly was Roxie. He hoped that she was all right. They weren't exactly poster children for the perfect couple, but they'd always gotten along well enough and he was used to her.

If Mayhem Man really was about to start a war against the citizens, then Bernard was glad she was with Wayne Scott. He took small comfort in knowing that she'd be all right in the presence of an alien genius—the only person perhaps with a chance to stop Mayhem. That had to be true. Otherwise, Mayhem wouldn't have taken him hostage, proving that the villain _was_ a little concerned about his dictatorial regime.

As they flew above the countless skyscrapers, Mayhem's voice quietly drifted down to Bernard, who'd been watching the city below him flash by.

"Cheer up, Bernie. It's only going to get worse."

**A/N: Hi! Don't think I've ever gotten a chapter out this fast before! I'm glad it's done, but I'm sorry to say that it's mostly a filler, but no less important. Sorry that it was so short, but that last line seemed like a good creepy place to end it. I've felt Bernard needed a little attention. It's really difficult writing him because there's not a lot to go on. The movie makes his brief character appearance seem like he's rude, arrogant, boring, a know-it-all…well, you get the idea! However, I still like Bernard. I don't think he's a bad guy—just quirky. The next chapter will get back to business.**

**Oh and BTW, there are 2 references to the Superman movies. He is my all-time favorite comic book hero and I couldn't resist adding something in. I'll give you a hint: one of them is an event that occurred in 1 of the 5 movies; the other is a line that I've twisted around slightly. The first person to guess them both correctly….DRUM ROLL….can name a chapter! All of the chapters start with "It's Mega-something or other" and it will be the winner's job to give me the "something or other" part. I do ask that it coincides with this story and/or the movie. Happy guessing!**

6


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine.**

Chapter 13: It's Mega-Revealed

It had been exactly seven minutes of silence since they'd arrived at the crash site. Wayne still kept a tight grip on Megamind's dehydration gun, but was no longer directly aiming for his back anymore. He'd heard some very plausible claims about the time travelling fiasco. For Wayne, believing was easier said than done. He tried with all his might to discredit those claims, but a damaged time machine spooning the old oak and precariously dangling over the drop off of his property was _really_ hard to ignore.

"Fine," he ground out through clenched teeth. "You're telling the truth."

Megamind folded his skinny arms and appraised his twin with a sharp eye. "You can deny it all you want."

"I didn't deny anything," Wayne retorted.

"You didn't have to. It's written all over that handsome profile. All you have to do is admit it."

"I will do no such thing…since I did no such thing," he said, peering closely at the metal sphere. It was pretty banged up after the crash. The formerly shiny steel was covered in multiple, deep dents and ugly gouges.

Megamind would not be dissuaded. "All you have to say is…'Megamind, I apologize. Clearly, you were right about the existence of the time machine and have obviously been telling the truth about changing the past. It is plain to see that you, _Megamind_, have an amazing intellect that surpasses all known species in the universe, including my own inferior copy of your brain.'"

Wayne shot him a dirty look. "When I considered traveling through time, I never imagined that I'd meet such an arrogant, rude and condescending version of an alternate dimension me."

Megamind held up one forefinger. "Uh, technically, _you're _the alternate dimension me. I am the one and only original. Without me, there would be no you."

"Don't forget that I built a time machine too," he said, poking the finger of his free hand in Megamind's chest. "You're not the only genius present."

"Debatable," Megamind said out of the side of his mouth.

Wayne's look went from dirty to downright nasty, lips pursing into a tight blue line. Rather than fire back a witty retort, however, he stepped up to the entrance of the machine, shifted the gun to one hand, and stuck the other hand into his jeans pocket. In seconds he'd turned on his phone flashlight feature and peered inside. He glanced over his shoulder, one thin eyebrow arched in contempt.

"_This _is your idea of a time machine?" He snorted a little laugh under his breath and muttered, "No imagination whatsoever."

"Excuse me, _Wayne_," he said, left nostril curling in irritation at having to say _that_ name again, "but not all of us have the luxury of playing video games in mommy and daddy's basement. Some of us have real jobs in the real world and can only focus on quality not quantity."

Wayne made an indignant noise. "I do have a real job! My software is used in practically every home and office on the planet…and I didn't have to break the law to accomplish that like some other alien I have the misfortune to know."

On the walk from the house to the forest, Megamind had given Wayne a little history and he had been shocked to hear that his alternate self had spent the better part of his life behind bars, but now they were on more even ground. Megamind ridiculed the genius of the basement dweller. It was only fair he picked on the jailbird.

"I'm glue, you're glue and everything sticks to you!" he yelled back.

Wayne's forehead creased into confused wrinkles. "That makes no sense whatsoever."

Megamind turned a snooty nose into the air. "Makes perfect sense to me. Perhaps genius is measured differently in this timeline."

"Well, if it is, then you only have yourself to blame, since you created this alternate world," Wayne said, smirk matching that of his counterpart's.

Megamind's mouth opened, but he quickly snapped it shut. He grabbed Wayne's phone, ignoring his cries of, "Give it back!" and shone the flashlight high as he carefully stepped inside the unstable sphere.

"What are you doing?" Wayne asked, following close behind. He made a grab for the phone, but Megamind moved away too quickly. Having his property snatched away with such brutality sent him into a panicky state. It was just like elementary school when the bullies played keep away with his stuff. Not that the private tutor had been any less touchy feel with his inventions.

"I need to see if Minion packed anything else away in here that might be useful."

Wayne glanced at the gun. Megamind had his back to him while he dug around in a compartment above his head. He could reduce the offensive clone of himself to a dehydrated cube. On the way out here, he'd tested the gun on an unsuspecting squirrel out of mere curiosity, and now knew exactly how it worked. The energy beam from the gun took only 0.68 seconds to fire. Megamind's reaction time couldn't possibly be faster than that, which meant he'd never see it coming in time stop Wayne.

It was his own fault anyway. Megamind's arrival had thrown off Wayne's precision perfect routines. So really…he'd be doing himself a favor and the rest of the world would be none the wiser.

There was the matter of the nonfunctioning time machine though, which was a large problem to hide. Maybe he could take it apart piece by piece and hide them all in the basement or melt it down somehow. It really wouldn't be all that difficult. He just had to pull the trigger…but what would Minion say? Though he was a super genius, he wasn't too skilled in lying. That fish saw through everything! He could tell him that they repaired the sphere and Megamind went back to his reality. Minion might believe it because that's what he was supposed to be doing right now—helping his twin get home.

He was surprised to see that he'd aimed at Megamind's back without really thinking about it and had already lightly squeezed the trigger. _ But_…he couldn't deny that he was curious. The fact that two separate realities had created two alternate aliens who had led two very different lives was irresistible. It was in his nature to be inquisitive about the entire world around him, though he seldom set foot outside the basement. Outside was very germy after all and his brightly colored epidermis didn't do well in the sun anyway. Sunburns turned his skin the shade of a grape.

And then there was the matter of the…woman. Megamind was married to a _woman_. Roxanne Ritchi no less. Wayne knew exactly who she was because he never missed a single newscast. The DVR was full of reports that he couldn't bear to delete. He watched them over and over, wishing he could meet her in person. She wouldn't tease him or make fun of his speech impediments. He just knew that she wouldn't. Those beautiful blue eyes radiated too much warmth during her reports to be false.

Mother thought he was obsessed. Now he was about to meet that obsession. Megamind had said she would be here at 7:00 sharp. What would he say? Hello seemed like a good idea, but what if he spontaneously tripped over something in front of her? Or worse…what if he got so nervous he threw up all over her? His stomach twisted at the idea of such a terrible mortification occurring in front of the most beautiful woman in the world.

If she was really coming to his house, then he needed Megamind—much as he hated to admit that rotten truth. Wayne glanced at the gun again. After doing some very hard thinking, which had really been a tossup, he lowered it and moved his finger away from the trigger.

"Why are you taking supplies out? Why can't you just fix it, go away and leave me alone?" Wayne asked, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

"Why would I do that when you have a time machine that's not in need of repairs sitting in your basement ready and waiting for me?" he asked, holding up a plastic baggy with six dehydrated cubes. "I'm just taking out the things I can't leave behind here."

Wayne's eyes popped. "You know about the DeLorean…_my DeLorean_?"

Megamind shrugged. "Better me than Mayhem Man, don't you think? I simply want to borrow it. He would crush your skull with it."

"Excuse me? Borrow it?" he cried, mouth dropping open.

"That was what I said wasn't it?" he said, pulling Wayne by the arm into the sphere. "Shine the light will you?"

"What else of my stuff have you been touching?" he grumbled, unsuccessfully trying to wrench his arm free. Megamind was stronger than he looked.

"Just the lightsaber."

Wayne's jaw flapped. "But—you—how could—the violations keep piling up!"

His counterpart rolled his eyes. "Can we cut the drama? It's not like some stranger was touching it. A genius the likes of which this planet has never produced is the only person who should be handling such exquisite of pieces technology."

"I don't care. It's still _my_ stuff…and how did you figure out the code to the safe?"

Megamind gave him an 'are you really that stupid' look. "Identical brains. Identical thought patterns. It _really _wasn't too difficult if you get my drift."

Wayne shook with so much quiet fury that the light from the beam of the flashlight wobbled all around the inside of the broken time machine. Megamind kept griping at him to keep it steady and it took every ounce of willpower to keep from reneging on his earlier musings about _not _shooting his double in the back, cowardly as that sounded.

He watched him going through the other compartments, amazed that he'd had the audacity to assume the DeLorean was free game just because they were, for argument's sake, the same person.

"So you think that just because we are two pieces cut from the same mold that I'd be understanding and sympathetic enough to just hand over my time machine to you without batting an eyelash?"

Megamind looked genuinely surprised. "Uh…yeah. Why wouldn't you?"

"Because it's mine!" he yelled. "I didn't spend three hundred grand and four years on it just to give it away! And besides, you already have a time machine!"

"Which doesn't work anymore," he countered.

"So fix it and stop touching my stuff."

"I don't have time to fix it."

"The irony of that statement is obviously lost on you, considering this is all your fault to begin with!"

Megamind dumped the armful of odds and ends he'd found onto the ground outside and turned towards him with a hard look. "You're not going to help me." It wasn't a question.

Wayne shrugged. "Besides the fact that you think you're entitled to my stuff—which you're not—we both know what sending you back to the right timeline means for me."

Megamind averted his eyes, a flash of guilt passing over his face. "There's no proof of that."

"There may not be concrete evidence to support the theory, but I may cease to exist! How is that fair?"

"Don't speculate. We don't know what's going to happen. This timeline may not disappear."

"_May _being the keyword."

"Well, you don't know what will happen. This is the first time travel event in Earth's history so we can't possibly know the outcome. A spatial type of mitosis might occur and create another dimension…perhaps."

He snorted. "Sorry, but the prospect of a 50/50 chance that I'll either live or evaporate into nothingness isn't exactly comforting."

His carbon copy stood there with hands resting on his hips, one finger tapping an impatient rhythm against his thigh. "Look…I'm sorry that this happened, but there's nothing I can do about it now, except to put everything back the way it was."

"Which means we're all goners in this altered world," he muttered.

He rolled his eyes. "I already apologized. What more do you want me to do?"

"To go away so that everything goes back to the way it should be."

"_The way it should be? _Are you boonkers? Look around this city. Metro Man's evil twin has destroyed everything that was good about Metrocity. How can you honestly believe that's how it should be? My Metrocity may not be perfect, but we don't have Mayhem Man flying around murdering the citizens and the streets aren't riddled with crime—thanks in large part to my brilliant crime fighting style!"

Wayne narrowed his eyes. "How do you know that this isn't the right timeline to begin with? Maybe yours is the alternate world."

"If that were true, how do you explain my memories?"

"How do you explain mine?" he shot back.

"I'm beginning to think I'm stuck in a time loop and not an alternate timeline," he said, rolling his eyes.

"If you start messing with the continuum again, you may screw everything up and make the universe explode," he said gravely. "And then we'll all pay for your mistake."

"We've wasted enough time already." Megamind stepped out of the time machine and bent over to pick up the sack of dehydrated cubes. "I think I remember what these are finally," he said quietly. "Good thing too, cause I'll need help repairing this hunk of metal."

Wayne stared at the calm exterior of the alien's face. He was curious about the contents of the baggie, but more interested in his twin's answer. "How can you be so cavalier? Death may be the only outcome. What about Minion? What about Roxanne? You'd really be willing to take that chance?"

A strange look settled over Megamind's face, but it wasn't what Wayne expected. He'd thought Megamind might show fear, regret, remorse…but certainly not peace.

"I've got to try, Wayne." It was the first time he said his name without a sneer. "I'd never forgive myself if I didn't. They're all I've got. What kind of best friend and husband would I be if I didn't try to get home to them? My family…"

Wayne really hated the pang of guilt he suddenly felt. There was a chance, although slim, that his timeline might continue uninterrupted when Megamind went back to his own—not that Wayne's Metrocity was anywhere close to paradise when a murdering supervillain reigned with an iron fist. Letting this rotten version continue when it shouldn't have existed in the first place didn't seem right. His twin's world sounded almost perfect. Megamind had the love of a beautiful wife, the admiration of an entire city and a life that sounded happy.

Who wouldn't want to go home to that?

"Fine. I'll help you fix this scrapheap, but you can't have my DeLorean."

Megamind smirked, holding up his hands in defeat. "Fair enough."

* * *

><p>Hal's plan had been to…well, he didn't really have a plan on how to spy on Wayne Scott. The computer genius wasn't exactly the easiest dude to spy on considering he was a closet weirdo freak or something that left the house like once a year. Had Mayhem not flown him inside, he doubted he'd have gotten past the high wall. Security at this mansion was pretty tight.<p>

There were a lot of trees on the property that would have given him a good view of the house if he'd been able to climb. His broken ankle had prevented him from doing just about everything except gimp through the grass. Breaking in was the next brilliant idea, but the grounds immediately surrounding the giant house were really well lit. With such a bad limp, he'd never be able to escape without being seen. Servants were coming in and out of the house at regular intervals to do whatever it was servants did.

Hal freaked when he realized he might go back to Mayhem empty handed. The constant ache of his broken bone was a reminder that he'd receive worse from the supervillain if he reported back without anything useful. That's why he had to do something more than just stand here and think about doing something. Trouble was he'd never been the best thinker. He was a doer. He…did stuff. Like spy on super geniuses so his boss wouldn't break every bone in his body.

He was leaning against one of the trees facing the house, wondering if he'd catch a break and someone might just leave a window open. Then…he couldn't believe his luck. Wayne Scott had just walked right out of the house and was heading in Hal's direction. He backed around the curve of the tree to keep hidden and remained completely still while Scott entered the forest that surrounded the house. It didn't matter to Hal what he might be up to, just so long as it satisfied Mayhem's curiosity and kept his neck totally unbroken.

When the alien was several yards ahead, Hal gave chase, dragging his heavy walking boot through the grass. He pulled out his phone, readying himself to record the blue weirdo's activities.

* * *

><p><em>Roxanne would be here soon….Roxanne would be here soon…Roxanne would be here soon…<em>

The same mantra kept repeating in Megamind's head over and over. It was getting very close to 7:00 o'clock sharp and she had always been punctual. There was no reason to believe that idiosyncrasy had changed along with the timeline. Before they had headed into the forest, he'd made Wayne inform the security guard at the entrance to expect Roxanne's arrival and tell her to head straight for the forest. When he'd mentioned to Wayne that she was coming, the wimpy twin had almost blown a gasket. Actually, he'd gotten really pale and looked like he would throw up and pass out. The very notion that a woman would be in the same ten mile radius of him was enough to make his digestive system act up because his stomach hadn't stopped making little agitated noises.

Megamind rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time since he'd met Wayne.

The only reason that his pathetic twin had agreed to come out to the time machine in the first place was on the condition that Megamind tell him about Roxanne. That had proved a little anti-climatic. He positively _loved _talking about her to anyone who would listen, but after asking a small handful of questions about his reporter wife, Wayne had clammed up about her and moved on to other topics, such as which fandom was better: _Star Wars _or _Star Trek_.

"Which one?"

He shrugged. "Why do I have to pick one? They're both very cool."

"_They're both very cool,"_ Wayne mimicked in a whiny voice. "You can't like both. It's against the rules."

"What rules?"

"Sci-fi's of course! What kind of a fan are you anyway?"

"Uh…a normal one," he answered honestly.

That was when Wayne stopped talking altogether. Megamind really wanted his dehydration gun back, but Wayne was reluctant to let it go and if the sophisticated weapon made the little boy feel like a man, he wasn't about to take the candy away from the child lest another whiny argument ensue. The deafening silence had grown so awkward that Megamind had stopped talking altogether. It was just probably another weird quirk of Wayne's hermit lifestyle.

Wayne hadn't helped much at all, except he still held up his phone as a flashlight once Megamind had returned it. He'd been looking to see what else Minion had stored away for emergency purposes. So far the search had provided some useful items. Besides the six dehydrated cubes—which turned out to be six brain bots—there was a spare ape suit of Minion's in five separate pieces. That fish had thought of everything, even the drill and the screws to put the suit together. Perhaps the alternate dimension version of his best friend would be willing to try it out. He could certainly use the help since Wayne was about as useful as…nothing. He'd resolved himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting behind the wheel of the DeLorean anytime soon. If repairing the sphere was his only way home, then so be it. At least his little robots were there to help.

The soft _bow bow_ of the brain bots hovering around him was calming, which painfully reminded him of home. When he'd been in the early stages of building the time machine, he'd dehydrated six brain bots to take along and then forgotten about them. Their CPUs noted the passage of time, but the little metal minions were like dogs, full of unconditional love for their daddy.

"Ow!" he yelped. "Three, watch where you're biting!" he scolded.

"Three? What kind of name is Three?" Wayne questioned.

"Though my brain bots number in the thousands, these are the first six that I created." He pointed them out one by one. "Currently stabilizing the time machine is One and Two…Three you already know, and Five. Four is high up keeping watch and Seven is eyeballing you."

Wayne glanced over his shoulder and started. Seven was hovering just behind him with very a steely glare. It was slightly larger than the others with more appendages that were longer, thicker and covered in razor-like spikes. Like the other bots, it had a single optic attached to its glass dome, but it was a deep red and far more menacing than the rest of the group. While the other brain bots pushed and pulled the broken sphere away from the edge, Seven looked ready to slice and dice him if he thought it was necessary. He couldn't help the little shiver that rattled his body.

"Um…w-why, I mean, what," he said shakily, "What happened to bot Six? You—you skipped that number."

A pained expression passed over Megamind's face. "Well you know that old joke, why was six afraid of seven?"

"Because seven ate nine," he finished automatically.

"Exactly."

Wayne's eyebrows arched. "Seven ate Six?"

"And ironically, Nine. Twenty-three later on. Yeah, Seven used to be a little glitchy, but don't worry. I've rewired him twice. He's fine now," he said, waving a dismissive hand.

"Sure. Whatever you say," Wayne said doubtfully, taking a step away from Seven. The bot followed him.

"But I really wouldn't move if I were you or keep your back to him. He thinks it's rude."

Wayne scoffed. "Why exactly do you have a serial killer bot flying around? He's not helping the others with the time machine. What's his purpose?"

Megamind shrugged. "Security. I couldn't commit crimes of the century without a little muscle to back me up. Incidentally though, that's why I chose him for the time travelling mission years ago, and he was making the other brain bots nervous."

"Can't imagine why," he said dryly.

"Oh! And don't you dare bend over in front of him or call him an 'it'. His bite is _much_ worse than his bark."

"Wasn't planning on it." Wayne half-turned away from Seven, but kept the bot in the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but wonder if Megamind's claim that he'd repaired the brain bot was true or not. Judging by the screeching noise coming from the bot's razor-like appendages as he ground them together, he really didn't think so.

* * *

><p>Roxanne felt a little better after hearing Bernard's droney voice coming through the other line of the phone. At least he was okay, annoyed and clearly in the mood to complain, but that was normal for him. Mayhem's threat on her husband's life could not be taken lightly. The supervillain wasn't all that sharp, but his threats were, and this most recent intimidation tactic was working.<p>

Her heart thumped nervously against her rib cage. Tomorrow night at 6:00 pm she was expected to have a news crew ready at the main entrance to Scott Manor…or else. It didn't take an alien genius to know that Mayhem was probably going to break Wayne's neck on live television just to remind everyone who was in charge and that no one could stop him.

There was only one obvious solution. Running away wasn't supposed to be the answer, but in this case, an exception had to be made. She was going to convince Wayne to go into hiding. There wasn't anything cowardly about leaving. Judging by Wayne's actions after watching that video of him fighting Mayhem's lackeys six to one, she feared he'd stand up to the villain in a fight to the death. Bravery was enough when fighting mere mortals, but Wayne wouldn't stand a chance in hand-to-hand combat against Mayhem. Hiding was the only way, although the villain's superpowers made the idea of trying to hide sound more stupid the longer she contemplated it. He'd find them in the end.

To her surprise, the gates to Scott Manor were already open, as though they had been waiting for her arrival. The security guard gawked at her like she was a monkey in a zoo. He absently waved her through and despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn't help but smirk. Two visits from one woman in the same day to a nerdy genius that lived in the basement would probably make the Metro City history books.

Movement in the rearview mirror caught her attention. The security guard was flagging her down. She stomped on the brakes and rolled down the window.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Ritchi, I almost forgot," he said breathlessly, after running to catch up to the van. "Mr. Scott said that he'd be going for a walk in the forest over yonder and for you to just meet him out there."

Roxanne parked the van in front and made the long walk towards the forest, shoving the keys into her pocket. As she trudged through the grass, she rubbed the tiny knot on the base of her skull. It was tender to the touch. She cursed her absentmindedness in forgetting to take some aspirin, but didn't feel like walking all the way back to the van. That knock on the head Mayhem gave her was now a throbbing headache. Though not debilitating, the pain wasn't easy to ignore either. Her bruised arm hadn't fared much better. She'd meant to grab her sweater to hide the discolorations on her skin because she didn't want Wayne to see, and she'd gone and forgotten that too. Head injuries made one very forgettable.

She was still contemplating all possible ways of trying to hide that giant blue head in a crowd when she pulled out a flashlight to guide her through the trees. Scott Manor sat so high above the city that the sun no longer had any effect on the dark forest. Roxanne rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. The painkillers she had forgotten, but the flashlight she had remembered to pocket. Almost as soon as she turned it on, she switched it back off. Though the forest around her was quiet enough, the sound of leaves rustling underfoot was audible.

After her terrifying encounter with Mayhem, Roxanne was more than a little jumpy. She hugged one of the trees and squinted into the darkness. Nothing could be seen, but the crunching of leaves under a pair of feet couldn't be mistaken. Something or someone was definitely a few yards ahead. This was a forest though and it was probably just a squirrel looking for nuts, but it was way past bedtime for the rodent and the footsteps were too heavy to be an animal.

With a light skip, she moved forwards to the next tree or two, following the sound, but still blind to what it was. Then a break in the trees appeared after a small breeze rushed past. A little bit of leftover sunlight filtered through and illuminated a dark shape creeping along. The figure appeared to be tiptoeing, but the leaves prevented all attempts at stealth. No doubt this was a prowler because it was most definitely not Wayne. Whomever it was had too wide a frame to match that of the thin alien's. It had to be one of Mayhem's goons that he'd sent to spy...but why? Was he here to check up on her? To make sure she did what Mayhem had ordered her to? Or something worse?

It didn't matter what the prowler was here to do. What did matter, was putting a stop to his plan before he could report any findings to the city's dictator. Luckily, the prowler's back was to her, which meant she hadn't been spotted. A good—and possibly stupid—idea popped into her head. She wasn't armed, which meant the element of surprise would have to be her weapon. The news van wasn't too far back up the pathway and she dashed for it, carefully stepping to avoid drawing attention. As soon as she reached the rear doors, she flung them open and dug around for an extra camera cord to use as rope.

With a soft, "Yes!" she jerked the cord free of its compartment and draped it over one shoulder. Tying the prowler up wouldn't do any good unless he were unconscious first so she grabbed a tripod and held it out in front of her like a bat. In no time at all, she'd caught up to him. A sick form of glee took hold when she saw that he was limping. It looked incredibly painful. He grunted and groaned with each step. This advantage was almost too good to be true.

Just a little closer. He was muttering under his breath.

"Stupid freaking Mayhem Man. Making me walk on a broken ankle. If I had superpowers, I'd…um, I'd do stuff that would like…hurt him and make him cry like a little girl and stuff."

Roxanne impatiently shoved the hair out of her eyes and steadied her grip on the tripod. The prowler was just inches away.

"Psst!" she called out.

The prowler jerked and spun around.

"Wh—"

THUNK!

With a heavy thud, he dropped to the leaves, sending them flying through the air. Reaching out with the tripod, she poked his large stomach. He didn't move. She dropped the tripod and rolled him over, which was easier said than done. He was a hefty guy. Little beads of sweat formed along her brow as she hurried to tie his ankles and wrists together with the cord. The source of the limp had been a walking boot, which made the hog tying awkward, but she managed without a problem. She'd been sailing with her parents in the past and while her knowledge of knots wasn't by any means expert level, she was satisfied that they'd keep the prowler from escaping.

She switched on the flashlight to conduct a quick search of his pockets, but came up empty-handed. He wasn't armed after all, except for a phone. She shoved it into her pocket just in case he woke up. Pulling off the ski mask didn't do much good either because she didn't recognize the freckly red head. His tongue was sticking out and his eyes were partially open and crossed, giving him a dumb look. Actually, the expression looked natural for him.

Clearly, she hadn't hit him hard enough because a tiny moan escaped through his parted lips. She had never been particularly violent, but environment had a way of changing a person, especially when the city was overrun with evil. So giving no second thought as to whether she should or shouldn't, she whacked him over the head again. He still breathed, but didn't move.

Before resuming her search for Wayne, she glanced around for more prowlers, but didn't see or hear anyone else. Considering that the supervillain had just demanded a showdown on live television with Wayne Scott, there was no telling what underhanded tactics he planned to use. Sending someone to spy was probably the least of the dangers likely to come. That thought spurred her into a light jog.

Seeing Wayne again sent a nervous shiver through her body. It was entirely wrong to anticipate this with excitement whenever Bernard was waiting for her at home with dinner on the table. But there was just something about him. Something that she had to know and there was no way that she could stop trying to find out what it was—not when he'd promised to tell her everything tonight.

It wasn't long before she heard his voice. He couldn't be far now, but…he wasn't alone…at least, she didn't think he was. The security guard at the gate hadn't mentioned a second person. Something didn't make sense because she could only make out one voice…_his_, but there were definitely two people talking. Strange as it sounded, he appeared to be having an argument with himself.

"No," Wayne One said flatly.

"Is that your answer?" said another voice identical to Wayne's.

"Considering that you didn't ask me a 'yes or no' question, _Wayne, _then my answer couldn't possibly be 'no'. It is, however, a _refusal_ to answer said question."

"B-b-but it might be the most important question you'll ever answer in your life," he protested with a sputter.

"You're kidding right?"

"I don't kid. _Ever_." Wayne Two said solemnly.

"You don't say," he said sarcastically.

"This is dead serious...and I'm holding the gun…remember?" Wayne Two reminded Wayne One, waving the weapon to make a point.

Wayne One let out a big guffaw. "HA! My superior skills in hand-to-hand combat would wipe the floor with you before you'd even get a shot off."

Wayne Two's eyes widened slightly and he tightened his grip on the gun. "Then why haven't you yet?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm trapped in an alternate dimension with a poorly constructed version of me, trying to restore the correct Metrocity timeline and get back to my wife Roxanne and best friend Minion! Standing around listening to you yammer about whether Star Wars is better than Star Trek and vice versa is not my priority!" Wayne One thrust out an impatient hand. "Give me the gun!"

"No," he said, pulling it back possessively.

"You're wasting precious time…_my _time."

"Boo hoo. Answer the question."

"Or you'll what?" he challenged.

Wayne blinked and then thrust the gun forward. "Or…I'll…I'll shoot!"

Wayne One snatched the gun so quickly out of Wayne Two's hands that his reaction was delayed. A second later he jumped, eyes wide with shock as he stared at his empty hands. The gun was already snuggly secured in its holster. His jaw hung open, but no sound came out.

"Sorry," Wayne One said, though he didn't sound like he meant it. "But I'm running out of time. Roxanne will be here any minute, expecting an explanation. If she sees the two of us together before I can explain, I can only imagine how well that will go."

Wayne Two shot him a confused look. "I thought you said that you were prepared to tell her the truth. When she sees two of us, it won't be difficult for her to believe."

"You mean the same way _you _believed me?" he asked dryly.

Wayne Two hmphed. "That was different."

"Whatever. I _will_ tell her, but I'd rather prepare her first and then have the big reveal after. Two of me won't be easy for her to see whenever there's only supposed to be one of me."

"That's the two of us, _Megamoron, _not two of you."

Roxanne watched this entire exchange in shock like she'd never felt. The roar between her ears grew in volume. She clutched her head while shaking it at the same time. Two aliens. Two Waynes…there were _two _Wayne Scotts standing right in front of her arguing. One was simply dressed in a tee-shirt and jeans, but the other Wayne looked just as he had last night in her apartment, outfitted in black leather, spikes and cape with that ridiculous high collar.

The shock of seeing two Waynes was hard enough. The fact that he'd said something about an alternate dimension hadn't registered. She could only fixate on one thing…one of the Waynes had said…she couldn't get the words out of her mind.

"My wife Roxanne." His _wife _Roxanne. _HIS WIFE ROXANNE?_

She shook her head. No, this was wrong. She had to get out of there. They hadn't seen her yet. The snap of a twig under her feet was like a bullet. Everything stopped. The wind was gone. The roosting birds ceased to chatter. She stopped breathing.

Two matching giant blue heads with two pairs of the greenest eyes imaginable stared back at her in equally stunned shock.

"That's the last time you keep watch, Four," one of the Waynes growled.

**A/N: Sooooooo sorry for the delay. I'm just very slow. I've been on a Jane Austen kick lately, rereading the books and watching every version of every movie that I could. I can't promise the next update will be fast because I have to go out of town for work again, but I do promise that I am working on it! Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine.**

**A/N: I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but I didn't want to wait any longer on updating. The good news is that the next chapter is about ¾ of the way finished. This is kind of a filler, but no less important to the plot. I added a new character, which I wouldn't ordinarily do so late in the story, but she just sort of popped into my head when I was considering where the future of this fic is headed. She will not be a major player, but her spontaneous appearance in my overstuffed brain changed what I was originally planning to do at the end of the story, so she's kind of important. I'm glad she barged her way in, actually, because she solved a problem. I hope you like it! **

Chapter 14: It's Mega-Minion

Minion wasn't a worrier by nature, but any problem to do with Sir usually turned his scales inside out. The little fish worried that he had been a horrible caretaker and had abysmally broken a promise made so long ago that he would never let anything bad happen to his blue best friend. He'd tried everything he could think of—within reason since he was trapped in a tank—to help Sir in whatever way he could. It had been the dying wish of Sir's parents. They had charged him with the responsibility of raising a healthy, happy little boy and to always ensure that he had a roof over that large head. And he'd only managed one and a half out of three. Sir was physically healthy, but that didn't make up for the emotional pains he'd suffered at the hands of adoptive parents that had cared more about what kind of publicity an alien baby could bring to the family rather than providing him with a loving home full of happiness.

The other Sir's arrival hadn't just upset the apple cart. It had sent the apples flying and the cart careening down a hill only to crash into a large boulder at the bottom, leaving nothing but jagged splinters and squished fruit. He'd been with Sir since infancy and no one knew his looks and mannerisms better than the little fish. A subtle twitch of the left eye meant his nervous tick was close to coming back. His frame of mind had always been somewhat delicate. It was easy to see that this wonderful life described by Sir's twin, Megamind, had more than left its mark. For someone who'd had very little to celebrate in his life, it would have been difficult to imagine let alone understand that kind of contentment. It was strange that their upbringings had been so similar in that they were both ridiculed and yet they had taken completely opposite paths.

Both Sirs had been gone for a little over an hour now and he wondered just what exactly they were doing out there. Surely they would have been back before now? How long could it take to examine a broken time machine anyway? Maybe he was just overreacting and he nearly believed that was the case until he glanced at one of the television cameras mounted high up on the wall of the basement.

Ms. Ritchi's news van was back, only she didn't come down to the basement. He watched her marching with purpose into the forest. The guards at the gate must have told her where to find Sir. Poor Ms. Ritchi didn't know what she was getting herself into since she and the rest of the world believed only one blue-skinned extraterrestrial walked the Earth. It might cause widespread panic if she reported to the metropolis that there were now two aliens with superior intelligence living amongst them.

Minion just had to be patient a little longer and see what happened. His face was glued to the glass of the tank, watching the cameras for signs of their return. Then a blaring phone ring startled him so badly that he swam straight into the roof of the tank and bumped his head. He groaned, eyes crossing slightly from being knocked a little silly. The caller kept up a persistent ringing, ignorant of his painful plight. Reluctantly, he moved away from the camera to the underwater phone rigged inside the tank and pressed the 'Talk' button with the tip of his fin.

"Hello?" he grumbled, not feeling too friendly since the caller was the cause of a burgeoning headache.

"Hello to you too, sunshine. Is there a fungus buildup in your tank or something? You usually sound a lot more chipper."

"Oh. Hey, Janeen. No, I just bumped my head. Hard." No need to tell her that it was technically her fault. He didn't want to make her feel bad.

"I'm sorry," she said, giving the automatic response. "Wish I was there to massage your bump."

He smirked in spite of the throbbing. "Me too."

"Speaking of Wayne-" she started. Minion rolled his eyes in amusement. They hadn't been talking long enough to be speaking of Sir. It was a habit of hers, to bring him up in random conversations that had nothing to do with the genius inventor. "I can't find him anywhere. Did he leave the conference early?"

Minion's heart sank to the bottom of the water tank. Forgetting about Janeen certainly didn't earn Sir any brownie points. It was painfully obvious to…well, _everyone_ that she worked with, everyone in her family, and everyone in Sir's family that she had a crush on his ward. As was common for Sir, he hadn't noticed. At all. Not that she'd ever confirmed or denied her feelings, but his minion's intuition said otherwise. Social relationships were not a pursuit of Sir's and since people repulsed him in general, Janeen included unfortunately, Minion didn't see much hope for her crush to ever be recognized much less acted upon.

"He didn't tell you, huh?"

Janeen huffed, irritation evident in her tone. "Uh...no, he didn't. I mean, he doesn't have to check in with me. It's not like we're...close or anything, but it would have been nice considering I'm now stranded! In Paris." She paused and laughed, though Minion didn't hear much humor in it. "There are worse places to be stuck though, I suppose. At least there are plenty of five-star restaurants to gorge myself on."

Minion was honestly surprised that Sir hadn't told Janeen. _Especially _Janeen. Repulsion of people aside, she was his right hand techie and had been involved in many of the designs for the software and the inventions Sir spewed out on an almost weekly basis. No one else on the planet could equal Sir's intelligence, but her skills were top notch, one of the many reasons why she also headed up the entire software development team for the company.

"A family emergency came up," he said, attempting damage control. "He probably just forgot to tell you in his hurry to get home."

She gasped quietly, the anger in her voice vanishing. "...is everything okay? Is it his parents? Should I get a flight back now?"

"No!" he yelled into the phone and then instantly regretted the harsh reply. Minion faltered over his choice of words. "No, his parents are both fine. It's not that kind of emergency." He tended to talk too much sometimes, probably because he spent every day of his life in a tank in a basement with hardly any conversation. The tank was self-sustaining and self-cleaning. He could feed himself by operating the controls to release fish flakes in the water, which meant he could go for days without talking to anyone, especially when Sir was gone for a conference.

"Then that only leaves you, Min. Are _you _okay?"

"Fit as a fiddle, thank you," he assured her and smiled at the genuine sincerity in her voice.

Not too many people ever asked Minion how he was doing. Actually, none of them did—except for Janeen. It was touching to know that she really cared. She always took the time to ask after the aquatic alien and paid him regular visits besides the brainstorming sessions she had with Sir. Sometimes she downloaded cookbooks for him. Though he was confined to his tank and would never be able to set fin in a kitchen, he still loved reading the recipes. Every now and then she experimented with a dish that captured his interest and cooked a gourmet meal for all three of them.

As much as he knew of her true fondness for himself, he had noticed a long time ago that most of her attention was focused on Sir. There were little glances over the brim of her glasses in Sir's direction, and she always complimented his choice of tee-shirts that displayed some science fiction quote. Then there were the countless hours that she'd spent at the Scott mansion, sometimes long into the night, helping him with new computer innovations—work that could have just as easily been done via a teleconference or from company headquarters. She'd put off a social life in favor of spending time with Sir, and the sad thing was that it hadn't made a bit of difference. For all his smarts, Sir was as dense as a rock buried in tightly packed cement, covered by mounds of bedrock, and a few more layers of old dirt when it came to girls.

Minion just wished he could do something about it, for both their sakes.

"Are you sure Wayne's okay? Can I do anything? Does he need anything?" she pressed.

He chuckled nervously. The less people that knew the better. Even Janeen. "Nah! It'll...be fine."

"O...kay," she said slowly, obviously unconvinced, but too polite to push. "Well, tell him I'll give everyone his excuses and take care of his part in the presentation."

"Then he's got nothing to worry about because his livelihood is in your very capable hands," Minion complimented.

"Thanks, Minion. You're a sweetie." She paused. "I know he tolerates these conferences and only goes because I make him." Her voice dropped an octave, making him strain to hear her words. "I mean, he barely tolerates me..."

Minion stared hard at the panel where her voice came through, determined to lift her spirits. "He's just shy, Janeen. Most genius types are, but I for one, think it's good for him. He spends too much time down in the basement alone. If it wasn't for you, he'd never go anywhere."

"I guess," she said glumly.

"No, really! You should have heard him going on and on about the world's largest fruitcake. He was fascinated by the idea and started designing blueprints for a machine that could make a giant...anything."

"The giant fruitcake? That's what grabbed his attention? You gotta be kidding! I was just trying to kill time between meetings by visiting local tourist attractions."

"No, really. The invention is still in the prototype stages, but it'd never have come into being if it wasn't for you making him attend the conference in the first place."

"Okay, okay," she relented. "Well, if everything's okay, then I guess I should get going."

An idea struck him. "Don't worry about how you'll get home. I'll send Sir's jet right back for you."

"That's not necessary, Minion," she said hastily. "I'll just buy a ticket."

"Absolutely not!" he said firmly. "And pick the most expensive five-star restaurant you can find because dinner will be on Sir. It's only fair since he forgot to tell you he was borrowing the jet."

"You know that sounds really fair to me too," she said, laughing. "By the way, I've got some souvenirs for you."

He perked up a little more. Janeen was a hoarder when it came to souvenirs, especially of coffee cups from around the world. They numbered in the hundreds and she'd shown him the pictures to prove it. She never forgot to bring Minion back a present and had even made a point of badgering Wayne about it since Minion couldn't leave his fish tank. It was their responsibility to bring back stories, pictures and memorabilia.

"Oh, I've really got to go now so I can go over my notes," she said. "I almost forgot that I've got to do some last-minute tweaking to the presentation."

"Bye, Janeen. I'll tell Sir you called."

The conversation hadn't ended a moment too soon. When Minion glanced back to the perimeter camera, his big brown eyes grew bigger. Sir and the other Sir exited the trees...Ms. Ritchie between them, and all walked at a leisurely pace. His scales shook with nerves, wondering what the three of them had got up to in the forest.

**PS. I don't know if there's really a world's largest fruitcake. I was just trying to think of something ridiculous to capture Wayne's interest. Is there a world's largest fruitcake? Eeeewwww….**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine. Also, there are brief references to the Blue Man Group and Charlie Brown—of which I have no claim. If you sue, sadly you will only get lint and a penny. **

Chapter 15: It's Mega-Explained

"Will you stop sticking your finger in my back!" Megamind yelled, swatting at Wayne's hand. "I can see for myself that she's here!"

Wayne had been incessantly poking him in the back ever since Roxanne's sudden appearance. The twit was probably just in shock being so close to a girl. His left eye started twitching and the eyelid rapidly flapped up and down. Roxanne looked no better than Wayne. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were a little bugged as they flitted back and forth between the identical aliens. As her gaze shifted to one and then the other, he could almost see the wheels spinning as she tried to make sense of it all.

The plan had been to break it to her calmly. He had decided to make Wayne hide behind a tree while he—Megamind—waited for her arrival. It had been his idea to make Wayne tell the security guards to send her out to the forest, but between the bickering and whining—of which none was his fault—Megamind had lost track of time. How quickly 7:00 o'clock had snuck up! So he supposed he really only had himself to blame for putting faith in Wayne, though it was an infinitesimal amount at best! The dope seemed prone to being an overall, blundering nitwit.

Yep, this was all Wayne's fault. He'd be lucky if he _ever _got home.

Well...he was nothing if not inventive and a master of improvisation, which had been necessary in the old days to pull off Dastardly Deeds of Doom. Roxanne looked ready to either bolt or stand her ground. The questions swarmed in her sharp eyes. He knew that look. She was far too inquisitive to just leave. He frowned when she began massaging her temple, a slight grimace marring the curiosity. Maybe she had a headache, which just might turn into a migraine after what he had to say. But it was the first sign that she'd passed through her catatonic state and was about let him have it.

Here it comes...three...two...one...

"Just _what _exactly is going on?" she cried, stomping through the leaves until she was almost nose to nose. The cute wrinkle between her eyes made a sudden appearance, and only when she was mad.

Megamind glanced at Wayne. He certainly wasn't going to get any help there. The wimp hadn't so much as moved a skinny muscle, and his eye was _still_ twitching. Naturally, it was up to him to clean the mess. He reached for Roxanne's shoulders to implore for understanding and patience. For him, the action was natural. For her, it was not. She shook him off and backed up until she was out of arms reach. Or rather, _his _arms. The gesture was crystal clear and his arms dropped to his sides, useless and empty.

"What kind of sick game is this?" she demanded, eyes ablaze with anger and barely suppressed panic.

"It isn't a game," he insisted. "It's—"

"Oh, really?" she interrupted. "From where I stand it looks like the Scotts have been playing a dirty trick on Metro City. Is your gaudy mansion full of clones bent on world domination? Or are you just the Blue Man Group 2.0?" she threw in snidely.

"He's not my clone!" Megamind protested with vehemence. "Believe me, if I'd cloned myself, _this _would not be the result!" He gestured towards Wayne with a jerk of his head. "No, we are two completely different people, like night and day, water and oil...fine wine and moldy cheese."

That finally got a reaction out of Wayne, who hadn't been able to get out of his shell-shock mode. He shot a look of contempt at Megamind for the less than flattering comparison and furiously rubbed his twitching eye. With a sniffing humph through his nose, he folded his arms defensively and turned a sullen face to the side.

"Fine," she relented, face was taut with ire. "There are two of you, but which one was in my apartment last night? You? Or your Bobsey twin over there?"

"Me."

"Prove it," Roxanne ordered. "What did we talk about?"

"Killing Mayhem Man." He shrugged casually as though speaking about the nice weather they were having. It wasn't the first time he'd used those very words after all. They still rolled off his tongue with finesse. Old habits...as he was wont to say.

Wayne jerked to life. "You. _What_? Oh, my God!" He glanced skyward, no doubt looking for the supervillain to be lurking amongst the branches over their heads. He recovered fast though, as the realization of what he'd just heard was processed. "Wait...did you just say you were in her apartment last night?"

"Yes, I did," he admitted with a smug face. "Though I don't see how it concerns you, _Wayne_," he said, reserving one of his nastier sneers for the name he positively loathed.

"Wait—he's the real Wayne Scott?" Roxanne gaped. "So...who are you?"

Megamind inhaled, ready to answer all of her questions, but Wayne interrupted to shove the other foot in his mouth, goatee-free chin wagging up and down like a marionette.

"Certainly didn't waste any time did you?" he grumbled.

That skinny finger was poking him again. "I told you once before. Stop poking me," he warned.

Wayne either ignored him. "You just waltz right into _my_ life and touch all of _my_ stuff like you have a right to everything here that you did there—especially her!"

He hadn't realized how whiny Wayne's voice sounded until he was fussing like a little girl, and they shared identical pitch. Terrific.

"Shut up!" he hissed in warning. This was _not _going the way it was supposed to if Roxanne's facial expressions were anything to go by. That little wrinkle continued to morph between confused and angry—mostly angry.

"What is he talking about?" she cried, fists balling. She was probably about to slug one or both of their exaggerated heads. "What did he mean, 'especially her'? Who are you?"

"Great, now you've got her talking about me in the third person like I'm not even here!" Wayne groused. "It isn't fair! _This_ Roxanne," he said, pointing a skinny finger at her, "isn't your wife. Why should you get to have her in both timelines, Mr. My-Life-Is-Perfect?"

"H-have me?" she spluttered in bewilderment, body shaking as she waved her fists in the air. "I don't...what is going ON!"

"Don't you think I know that!" he yelled back. "You're ruining everything! So shut up before I make you!" It surprised him when he realized his fingers were lovingly caressing the hilt of the D-gun. He hadn't even noticed that he'd been reaching for it. He couldn't— _shouldn't_ shoot Wayne. He'd promised Roxanne after all, not to randomly shoot innocent bystanders. Maybe he could give Wayne the benefit of the doubt just a second longer. But if he couldn't squeeze the trigger, then he needed to squeeze _something_. With practiced self-control, he moved his hands away from the gun and grabbed a handful of his cape in a taut fist instead, needing to squeeze something—preferably not Wayne's throat. One shaky, but deep breath later, he'd calmed. A little.

Roxanne was so incensed, her slender frame trembled. "Why do you keep calling me his wife? Are you both crazy? Tell me right now or I'm leaving and I will _not _be coming back!"

Wayne and Megamind were locked in a furious stare down, waiting to see who would crack first. Roxanne's questions, for the moment, were forgotten. Just when he thought Wayne was finally going to be quiet, a green gleam shone in the pair of eyes identical to his. It sent Megamind's stomach plummeting to the ground. His fear of talking to a woman was overshadowed by a flagrant desire to ruin everything. The words came flowing out of Wayne's mouth too quick to stop.

"That thing behind us, Roxanne, is a time machine. Your hubby here—" he jerked a thumb in his twin's face, who leaned away— "traveled back through time, changed the past, and screwed everything up! He's even been masquerading as me—lying in other words. It doesn't matter to him that those of us on the wrong side of the timeline have a fifty-fifty shot of survival if he makes it back to his time. Doesn't that just about sum up what's going on here..._Megamind_?"

Wayne didn't have a chance to blink much less take another breath before a blast of dehydration came rocketing out of the gun, hitting him in the chest. For a split second, he froze and then dropped to the ground in all his blue cubic glory. Well…so much for his promise. Doing it for the second time wasn't exactly a step in the right direction, but it wasn't like he really needed the help anyway. He'd been solving complex equations since the day after his birth. Repairing the time machine was child's play. Wayne's assistance would have only made things go faster. After that display though, Megamind was willing to find his own way home, including but not limited to, stealing that sci-fi replica time machine in the basement.

Wayne had had it coming—the dirty rotten, poor excuse for an alternate Megamind. Maybe he should have felt remorseful, but nothing could be derived from the act except a healthy amount of satisfaction. It was just another obstacle removed from the equation.

There was just one problem. He hadn't considered how awful using a weapon on an unarmed man looked to the only other person present—a person who had no idea what a dehydration gun was.

_Oops._

Roxanne shrieked. Loud. "Did you just..._KILL HIM_?"

Megamind gave the cube a stony glower. He knew firsthand that a dehydrated person had no awareness of passing time, or the experience of anything remotely physical. _Too bad, _he thought, kicking the cube hard enough to send it flying into a tree trunk, wishing Wayne could feel the giant oak's impact against that elongated forehead. It bounced across the leaves and came to a stop by the toe of his right boot. He rolled his eyes. Even dehydrated, his carbon copy was trying to have the last word.

"Of course not. He's just dehydrated and that's a heck of a lot better than he deserves at the mo—wait! Where are you going? Roxanne, stop!"

She was fast, flying through the leaves like a cheetah. He hadn't known she could run this fast. It wasn't the first time he'd chased her, but in those cases, she hadn't really been trying to escape. "Brainbots, head her off!" The little cyborgs ascended above the trees and pursued through the air. She wasn't too far ahead. He could still see the swish of her ponytail as she ran.

Here he was, playing two parts again, only this time he wasn't parading around as Bernard, but rather himself, only not. Odd how history was repeating itself in a twisted sort of way. And she was running away from him again. If it started raining, then the eeriness of the similarities would bring them around full circle. Too much was at stake for it to end like this. Wife or not, she was still Roxanne. She was just in shock, something she couldn't be blamed for, but this time it would be different.

He was running after her instead of walking away.

* * *

><p>At long past 7:00, the sun had set and the forest covering the Scott grounds was pitch black, making it difficult and dangerous to run through, as there were broken twigs to be stepped on and large roots to trip over, but she had no intention of stopping. The sounds of his pursuit were behind her, and from above, little points of blue light easily kept with her pace. Those strange floating robots were following her from the air, which meant she would have to stick to the trees. Running out onto the open grounds would only get her caught.<p>

...And why was she running again? For her life? That was it wasn't it? It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but…now everything was a little fuzzy. She certainly didn't feel like her life was in danger. Maybe it was time to do a quick mental summary before jumping to conclusions without the facts.

She'd just witnessed Wayne—or who had he said? Mega-something or other? He'd shot his lookalike with a ray gun and insisted that he wasn't dead. He was _dehydrated_. What the heck was that supposed to mean? How could he just suck all of the water out of a person? That kind of technology wasn't possible. Neither was time travel for crying out loud! The very idea that Wayne—or Mega-whatever—had even suggested it was preposterous. None of it was possible. Never mind the niggling at the back of her mind that said humans once believed they were alone in the universe only to be proven wrong by the arrival of a blue-skinned extraterrestrial super genius.

_The concussion!_ Yes, that would explain the weirdness that had been following her around like a black cloud all day. Concussions could cause hallucinations. The smart thing to do would be to go to the emergency room because Mayhem had probably knocked her brain hard enough into the back of the van to make her see double. Granted, it was only Wayne that she saw two of, which nixed that theory pretty fast since everything else in her vision was perfectly normal.

Roxanne could hear his voice behind her, begging her to stop, telling her that he could explain. That voice was as familiar as her own—like a pair of strong, but gentle arms enveloping her body in warmth, and undeniably...love. All of these feelings rose to the surface, feelings that were familiar...and it would be a lie if she said they were unwelcome. How could it be possible that she felt a little flip in her heart every time he looked at her? She'd just met the man yesterday!

And in that moment, contemplating the meaning of the word 'possible' seemed like a really good idea. A lot of things had happened in just 24 hours—things that shouldn't have been possible. The only way to discover the truth was to give her pursuer the benefit of the doubt. After all, she'd dedicated her life as a reporter to discovering the truth. An image of a sign in her office at work flashed through her mind. It said…_scope the scoop_.

Her pace slowed.

Whatever it was that she felt every time he'd touched her deserved an answer, especially after he'd caused such a big disruption in her life. Not one but two Waynes simultaneously existed in Metro City—or had, depending on whether or not the little blue cube was actually a dehydrated Wayne Scott. That was definitely not a thought she expected to run through her mind if the snort of disbelief that came out of her nose was any indication. Dealing with crazy stories was a hazard of her profession. The truth couldn't be any worse than watching Mayhem Man crush the city brick by brick.

If anything, she owed it to Bernard, to keep him safe from Mayhem's clutches—if there was a chance. Even though she'd just spoken to him on the phone, she was still worried. She trusted Mayhem about as far as she could throw him, which wasn't saying a lot. It would be just like him to go back on his word and hurt Bernard just because he could. The sociopathic bully.

That last terrifying thought brought Roxanne to a complete stop. "Time to find out what else is possible," she said to the quiet forest.

She waited and was surprised to see that Megamind wasn't the first person to show up. As it turned out, person was the wrong word. One of the flying robots peered at her from around a tree trunk, its red eye glowing like a beacon in the darkness under the thick roof of leaves. She backed up a little, not sure what to expect. Though the machine was small, its appearance didn't exactly give her the warm fuzzies.

The cyborg's body was covered in spikes and wicked razor-like appendages. She moved as little as possible, unsure if it would stay where it was or attack. Before she could decide on her next move, the little robot slowly drifted over. The solitary red eye attached to its clear dome looked her up and down. She felt a warm and tingly sensation spread through her body.

"Did you just scan me?" she asked the robot, not really expecting an answer, but when it opened its toothy metal jaw and said something that suspiciously sounded like, "Mommy", Roxanne spluttered, "W-ho-hoa, there, floaty. Not even close."

The robot ignored her frantic, "Go away!" It hovered closer to press its cold body against her chest, wiggling around like it was snuggling up for a nap. She stood there, arms uncomfortably dangling at her sides.

"Um..." Just what exactly was she supposed to do now?

The rest of the floaty robots descended from the sky now that she was no longer running and formed a circle around her, but they didn't come any closer. At least none of them latched onto her like the leech currently curling its freaky razor legs around her waist. Even more fantastic was the noise it made that sounded like a mechanical purr. A quick shake of her upper body did not loosen the cyborg kitty's arms in the slightest. After all the fruitless tugging and pulling, she gave up trying to get it off. Now was not the time to be accidentally cut in half.

"Swell," she muttered, holding her arms away from her body.

"I..." Pant, pant. "Think it's..." Pant. "Sweet...personally," said whatever-his-real-name-was, winded from the chase.

Roxanne looked up sharply into the face of the alien that was behind all this weirdness. He'd caught up to her at least, chest heaving up and down from the exertion of running.

"Seven always did like you best." He stopped a few feet away, training a fond eye on the robot. Then the smile dissolved, replaced by serious determination. "Roxanne, you came here for the truth and that is what I intend to give you right now and if anyone else tries to interrupt, I'll sic Seven on them."

Her racing heart had finally calmed, but it still beat firmly against her rib cage—a reminder that she was still alive and that everything wasn't hunky dory. Not yet.

"First things first," she began, pointing a finger at the robot. "Get it off me." But he was shaking his head in the negative before she'd stopped talking, making her snap, "Why not?"

"As I said, Seven likes you and he doesn't like anybody," he answered with a shrug. "Oh, and don't call him 'it'. He's a tad sensitive."

_A robot with feelings? _What other craziness was going to come spewing out of his mouth today?

"Why did it—he—call me 'mommy'? I've never seen it—him—before," she said, glaring down the robot.

"That's part of the explanation, Roxanne. You have seen him before."

She snorted in disgust. "Oh, right. The other you that shrank into a blue cube thingy said you'd time traveled here."

A sheepish smile and a lame shrug was his only response.

"You can't expect me to believe that!" she yelled. "It's sheer lunacy!"

The little robot made a disgruntled keen. When the Wayne doppelganger took a step closer to Roxanne, the keen switched to a frightening hiss. The single red optic blazed at the person coming too close to his mommy. He held up his hands, but didn't back away.

"Don't yell," he warned. "It will only distress him." His eyes brightened. "Stroke his dome."

"Excuse me?" she barked, holding her arms out to the side again to keep from touching the robot.

"It will calm him down. I always used to do that in the past before I was forced to dehydrate him. Just because he's been out of commission for the last ten years doesn't mean he can't remember you. Oh! And you might want to cradle him like a baby. Really lay it on thick with the nurturing," he advised.

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers too hard, making her eyes water. They should have been discussing why everyone was flinging around the words _wife_ and _time travel_. But apparently, that would have to wait until she cradled a robot like a baby.

Good grief, Charlie Brown!

"I'm not even going to pretend that I understood any of that," she said, wincing when Seven tightened his grip again. "Hey! You're hurting me, little guy!" she scolded, pushing gingerly against its sharp legs.

"Say mommy," he stage-whispered

Roxanne couldn't imagine a more ridiculous situation to be in. Referring to herself as _mommy_ to a robot had to be a one-way ticket to the loony bin. But its grip was fast becoming dangerously uncomfortable. Each breath was followed by a sharp sting from its razors.

She looked up at the sky, eyes rolling, and muttered, "Can't believe I'm saying this...you're hurting mommy. Please let go." She laid a hesitant hand on its dome. The energy charges followed her fingers as she stroked the glass back and forth. Seven ceased the angry hissing, but still wouldn't let go. He loosened the death grip a little, much to her relief. She cradled an arm underneath him and watched in amazement as his red optic dimmed. Goodie. Now he was probably going to go to sleep and leave her wearing the world's first robot fanny pack.

The Wayne lookalike was trying not to laugh. "Don't you dare smirk at me, pal," she snapped, giving the alien in front of her a very nasty look.

Having a robot latched to her middle, whose glass head she was currently patting, must have made a comical picture indeed. His lips wiggled around as he tried suppressing—with next to no success—the muscles that shaped his smile.

"Stop laughing!" she hissed.

He soberly instantly, but had to bite his lower lip to stop the chortles. "Sorry. It's just been a long time since Seven has seen you and this little reunion is very...nostalgic. It's not the first time he's latched himself to some part of you. The last time, it was both of your legs."

"I've never seen him before," she insisted. Then she jumped right into the heart of the matter. "And I'm not your wife either."

His face morphed into a myriad of expressions so quickly that she nearly missed seeing all of them, but the hurt was unmistakable. A rush of guilt flooded her chest. How she was able to empathize with his pain so easily was beyond her, and it hurt much worse than the little metal parasite suctioned to her stomach. Somehow, his pain was hers too and the compulsion to smooth over her harsh words couldn't be ignored.

"Look, I'm beyond confused here and I really just want a straight answer as fast as possible because my head is killing me, I'm fresh out of aspirin, and I'm not really sure if everything I'm seeing is real."

He glanced at her with concern. "You have a headache? I don't have anything on me, but Minion probably packed some aspirin in the time machine. I'll be back in a jiffy." He turned to leave, but she held out a hand, stopping him.

"No, answers first. I can handle the headache."

He scrutinized her closely and his frown only got deeper. She averted her eyes, suddenly self-conscious. He wasn't looking at her face, but at the arm that she had held out to stop him from leaving. She lowered the wounded limb and curled it under the robot again, but it was too late. Obviously her hopes that he wouldn't notice the bruises hadn't panned out.

"Why are you covered in bruises?" he demanded in a slow and even tone. "They weren't there earlier today. What hap—?"

Before he could grill her further, she launched into the same demand. "No! Answer my questions first. I'll tell you about the bruises later."

"Roxanne—" he said darkly, voice full of warning.

"Why did you refer to me as your wife?" she interrupted, surprised at how calm her voice sounded.

He didn't immediately answer and she waited, holding her breath till it hurt. It was shocking to see the black gleam in his eyes. The bright green of the irises had somehow darkened with the intensity of the flaring ire after seeing bruises covering her arm. A reaction like that didn't mean it was simple concern for her injuries. It was plain to see from the murder in his eyes that he wanted to punish the person that had caused her injury in the first place.

The longer he waited to answer was confirmation enough that there was a grain of truth to the whole thing. She just couldn't figure out how it was possible. Her head hurt enough as it was and trying to figure it out just made her brain throb that much worse. He sighed softly and came closer, the cape draped around his shoulders fluttering quietly in his wake. The robot tensed up, but she rubbed his glass dome again, hoping to convey some kind of assurance that she wasn't about to be attacked. Luckily, this helped and the robot...or Seven, resumed purring.

"My name is Megamind and I am from a very different version of Metrocity. I invented a time machine, altered the past due to a miscalculation, and created a skewed version of our city. That little blue cube—" he said, pointing over his shoulder with a thumb, "is the real Wayne Scott—as you know him anyway—and he is attempting to help me fix the past. In the other timeline, the correct one for me, you and I are...married."

* * *

><p>After an entire life of performing incredible acts of e-vil, it was natural that the old bad guy side flared up every now and then. Currently, he pictured just how exactly he could rub the fact that Roxanne was his wife—because she so was—in both Wayne's and Bernard's noses a little bit, which entailed the actual pressing of noses into a pit of something smelly. While Bernard hadn't technically broken a law, he was married to Roxanne. The ex-evil genius automatically hated him on principle. Never mind that it was an alternate reality in which Roxanne had never been married to the blue alien. That little detail could just be skipped.<p>

And Wayne...well the smelly pit would have to wait since he'd already dehydrated him and wasn't the least bit sorry about it. He wasn't _that_ benevolent of a reformed supervillain.

Megamind was positively thrilled that she had stopped running. That had to be a good sign. She was willing to hear him out. He had to admit that her first demand stunned him into a brief silence. She hadn't asked for an explanation of why there were two Waynes running loose in Metrocity, but instead had asked about the claim that they were married. Just how long had she been standing there unobserved? How much had she heard?

When Roxanne wanted a straight answer, she didn't waste time asking for one. Always the reporter. He'd imagined this moment several times over the past few hours, wondering what he would tell her and how to go about doing it. Wayne's lack of tact would probably make any explanation Megamind attempted to give her sound pretty pathetic. Lying seemed like a great idea. Fibbing—the old standby—had been very useful to him in the past. But the truth seemed to be working out pretty well lately, and this was Roxanne—someone he was incapable of lying to.

So he told the truth...and it went over like a lead balloon. A big fat juicy balloon full of daggers shooting from her eyes aimed right at his head. She hadn't looked that angry since the night she dumped him in the rain. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits of blue ice. It was both beautiful and frightening.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! Time travel? What do you take me for? An idiot?" Her eyes were alight with fury and her cheeks blazed scarlet. "With that giant head, I'd have thought you could come up with something more imaginative."

"It _is_ the truth. Roxanne, I swear upon my giant brain of genius that I told the truth. I always tell _you_ the truth." He rushed forward, ignoring the venomous hiss of the brain bot spewing in his direction. "Oh, shut up, Seven! Daddy's not going to hurt Mommy, you dolt!"

The robot made a disgruntled growl, but didn't attack. The crazy bot had always had a possessive streak when it came to Roxanne and was prepared to take a bite out of anyone who got too close.

Megamind took her hands and squeezed, careful not to hurt her, with the hope of appealing to the bond they shared. "Of course I could have come up with something more imaginative, but I opted for the truth because you asked me for it and I never give you anything less than what you ask of me...w-w-well..." He stuttered, self-confidence slipping a little. "At least, I hope I don't. I screw up a lot, but Roxanne, you mean everything to me and I try everyday to show you."

There it was. The crack in her armor. The cute little wrinkle forming between her eyes was an indication that the wheels within were turning. She hadn't just brushed him off. She was listening to him and considering that it all might be true no matter how farfetched.

"So you're saying that none of this is real?" she asked skeptically.

"Unfortunately, it's very real. It's just not the first real to exist."

"Right," she said shortly, "and we are...married in this so-called other reality?"

The look on her face was as steely as he'd ever seen it. Her eyes never wavered. She was probably just as curious about the time travel issue as most people would be, but the fact that she'd sought him out this morning and then kissed him without warning...he knew she felt that link just as strongly as he did. She already knew the answers to her questions in a subconscious way, but her logical side was clearly putting up a fight.

"Is that so hard to believe?" he asked.

Roxanne opened her mouth, but then snapped it shut. Whatever she had been prepared to say, she decided against. She took a step back, but he wouldn't let go of her hands, not until one of her eyebrows rose in silent question. He abruptly released them, properly admonished. Could he help it if he just wanted to touch her? _All the time?_

At first he was afraid that she was walking away without so much as a good-bye, but she turned at the last second, pacing under the trees. As she walked back and forth across the leaves, she said, "Let's say for argument's sake that I believe you. You're from an alternate reality and we're...husband and wife," she added quietly, obviously having trouble saying the words out loud. "What are you doing traveling through time and disrupting everything?"

"I made a miscalculation, which activated the time traveling program, sending me to an altered version of Metrocity. It was an accident that I alone have to correct. I sought out my other self. He's the only person that can help me restore the timeline."

"Is that what that big round thing was that I saw? Your...time machine?" she questioned, still with skepticism.

"Yes, but it was damaged when I crashed. I have many repairs to make before I can get home."

Roxanne nodded, but said nothing. He knew this was a stretch for her, as it would be for anyone. Time travel was a science fiction movie plot, not a topic as mundane as the weather. It looked like she wanted to believe him, but wouldn't let herself yet.

He couldn't stand the silence much longer and said as softly as he dared, "That's why you feel you know me even though you have no memory of us."

Those beautiful blue orbs in her perfect face widened a fraction. "Yeah, I do know you, but I don't." Her eyes screwed shut. "That shouldn't be possible should it?"

"Across timelines? I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't looked in your eyes."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He smiled gently. "My species forms bonds, strong ones, and over the years, that strength increases. I would say ours is in the early stages yet, but strong enough to...span time," he said dramatically, but unable to keep from chuckling at his silly joke.

She appeared to be more comfortable with Seven wrapped around her waistline now. He purred quietly under the ministrations of her fingers on his glass dome. She hugged him closer to her and didn't seem to notice.

"All right. Question two," she said.

"Ask away," he said with a tiny smile.

"Why did you come to my apartment last night?"

"Uh..." He faltered. Point-blank questions had always been Roxanne's specialty. She had no idea how intimidating that could be. He never ceased to be at a loss for words each time he was on the receiving end of such questions. "I...was...worried. About you."

"Why?"

He looked up at the trees and shut his eyes against the memory of Mayhem lurking over her. "I saw the report you did with Mayhem Man and I...panicked. You assaulted him with questions that only you are brave enough to ask. All I could think about was him coming back to hurt you later. I know I shouldn't have…I wasn't even sure if I could track you down…," the words were coming out in a rush now, "But I had to see you for myself, to make sure you were all right." He walked up to her again. "I take full responsibility for creating this e-vil city, but I promise to fix everything so that you can go back to your life...with Bernard," he added quietly, looking at the ground.

She'd gotten very quiet during his rushed speech and he took the opportunity to ask a question of his own.

"Where did the bruises come from, Roxanne?" he said softly, barely concealing the lurking fury.

He had a pretty good idea that he already knew. The longer he stared at the bruises, the more the purplish discoloration took shape, suspiciously resembling a large handprint. He curled his fingers into his palms, trying to keep from punching a nearby tree. A broken hand wouldn't exactly help the situation. The desire to lash out at Mayhem Man for hurting her was quickly becoming an obsessive thought that pushed out all rational behavior.

"He threatened Bernard," she blurted.

Megamind blinked. "What?"

"Mayhem demanded I bring a news crew here tomorrow night at 6:00 so that he can confront you on live television. He saw the video of you fighting off his goons. If I don't show up with a camera, he'll kill Bernard...if he hasn't already," she said, voice breaking at the last. She clasped his arm in desperation. "Please help me save him."

It was a punch to the gut. She cared about—no, she loved Bernard. That was plain to see with the glisten of unshed tears gathering in her eyes. He had to keep reminding himself that she wasn't his wife.

He glanced up at the trees again, noticing a few twinkling stars through the thick branches. There was a fifty-fifty chance that this Metrocity would live on even when he'd gone back to his own timeline. He couldn't prove that it would disappear into oblivion or that it wouldn't. Not knowing the outcome of what would happen to Roxanne once he left turned his stomach. Could he in good conscience, just leave? No, not with Mayhem Man terrorizing his Roxanne and the rest of the city.

He was responsible for this mess and fixing it was the priority now. Going home would have to wait. An idea had already popped into his head, one more impossible and even more dangerous than he'd ever attempted. He didn't know if it would work. None of the plans had worked in the past, but he'd never been one to give up on something just because it had failed the first one thousand times. Maybe that meant he was persistent. Optimistic? Stubborn? Delusional? Yep, probably that last one.

...But he'd never been able to turn Roxanne down any time she'd asked him for something, even when it was as ridiculously simple as taking the trash out. He'd already said yes in his heart, which meant he was going to have to do something he'd never done before.

"Of course I'll help you, Roxanne."

The relief on her face made him smile, though it was a little sad. "How? What are you going to do to stop Mayhem Man?"

Megamind smiled grimly. "A certain element has to be removed before I go home."

"Which is?"

"Mayhem Man. I have to kill him. For real this time."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So sorry this took so long! I'm back in class now and the prof has us writing at least 2 papers a week, plus essays for the test. It seems that all I do is write, but not the kind of stuff I want to write. I'm still plugging along though, but I can't say for certain when the next update will be. The last chapter confused a few people and that's my fault. It was Minion's POV and some thought that I wasn't going to go over the scene with Roxanne's discovery of why there are 2 Waynes. It was always my intention to do that scene, but never to confuse anyone. So sorry!**

**Oh! And I'm bummed because Will Ferrell was in my city promoting his new movie _The Campaign _at one of our reserve bases. I didn't know that he was going to do that or I'd have tried to sneak in and beg him on hands and knees—even cry if necessary—to do Megamind 2! Sadly, I do not think I'll get my wish. **

**The next chapter is when the action should begin, but it's still the early stages and unfortunately, I'm fighting writer's block now. Not fun, my friends. I'll do what I can though. Thanks for reading and reviewing. You guys are the absolute best.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine.**

Chapter 16: It's Mega-Tense

Megamind hadn't forgotten about Roxanne's headache. He'd retrieved some pain pills from inside the…_time machine_. Thinking those two words still left her head spinning. A few aspirin later though, and she was feeling somewhat better. At least her head no longer felt like a drill was pressed to her temple. The extreme information overload had her longing for the squishy couch back in her apartment, but rest was on hold for the moment. Right now, she listened to two aliens in a Metro City that was not supposed to exist argue over the ethics of whether or not it was moral to dehydrate an unarmed person. She silently sided with Megamind's view. Wayne was talking enough to make her headache return.

"I was unarmed!" yelled Wayne. "You had no right to dehydrate me _again_ just because you felt like it!"

His twin disagreed. "You were being an unreasonable buffoon who wouldn't shut up. Something had to be done."

"Dehydration is as good as murder. What if you had accidentally stepped on me? I'd be in a million pieces!"

Megamind snapped his fingers. "Drat! Why didn't I think of that?" He sent a nasty gleam in Wayne's direction. "Something to remember for the next time."

Roxanne thought about intervening, but frankly, she was too tired and too cold. She pulled her jacket closer together, shivering as they walked through the trees, heading back to Scott Manor. She lagged behind the blue duo, fantasizing about her couch some more. Seven had finally let go of her waist, but hovered a few inches to her right. His single red optic swiveled back and forth as he surveyed the area, making little _bow bow_ noises. All of the robots made the same sound, but Seven's was different. It was deeper, throatier, and more menacing. Since he wouldn't leave her side, Megamind had designated him her personal bodyguard. If a leaf so much as drifted too close, he shredded it with his razor arms. She wondered what he would do when he saw Bernard. The other six brain bots were carrying the time machine through the air. Each was equipped with LED lights and switched them on as they walked through the darkening forest.

Though reluctant to reveal anything else to Megamind, Wayne had informed them that there was a secret entrance to the basement big enough for a car to get through and was located on the opposite side of the trees that framed the property. The trek would require them to cross the lawn under the moonlight. Wayne didn't seem too concerned about anyone in the house spotting their peculiar group. The family and staff were so used to his odd hours and even odder inventions that they barely paid him any attention.

She glanced at the hunk of scrap metal that had caused this whole comedy of errors. The metal made grinding noises as it hung in the air between the brain bots. A normal person in her position would probably be freaking out, and not that she hadn't already done her fair share of that, but something about all of it just clicked. Hadn't she always felt that there was just something off about this Metro City? They weren't meant to be living in terror under a sociopathic supervillain. Everything was such a mess. She didn't know how Megamind could possibly fix things. Killing Mayhem couldn't be that simple. So far, the creep was impervious to _everything_. There was nothing on Earth capable of defeating him.

She was so lost in her thoughts she walked right into Wayne's back. Both aliens had stopped unexpectedly.

"Ow," she mumbled, rubbing her nose.

"HAL?" cried Megamind.

Roxanne peered around Wayne's shoulder. The red-head with the gimpy leg was still unconscious, face down in the dirt. He hadn't moved at all, but was sawing logs loud enough to wake up the entire city. A leaf under his open mouth held a tiny puddle of drool.

"You know this guy?" Wayne asked, looking at Megamind with suspicion. "What's he doing on my property? Did you send somebody else here to mess up even more of my life?"

"I found him," she explained, earning a look from both aliens. "On my way out here. He was sneaking around and I knocked him out with a camera tripod, then tied him up with electrical cord from my news van. My guess is that Mayhem Man sent him out here to do recon on Wayne. He's always got spies casing the city."

Megamind grinned. "Resourceful, isn't she?"

Roxanne blinked at him in surprise and then looked away, cheeks flaming. He'd been looking at her like that _a lot_ in the past twenty-four hours. His knowing looks were a little uncomfortable, especially when they made her stomach flip-flop.

He held up his hands in apology. "Sorry. Habit."

"No…it's um, understandable, I guess," she said with a shrug.

Wayne cleared his throat. "Yeah, we don't have time to flirt. How do you know this guy?"

Roxanne wrinkled her nose. For someone who'd barely said a word to her since they met, Wayne was certainly getting chattier, not to mention crankier, by the second.

"Hal and I had a little…_misunderstanding_…several years ago—in my reality, for which he is currently serving a life sentence and undergoing psychiatric treatment—though it won't help. He's an idiot."

"A misunderstanding?" Roxanne questioned, curiosity piquing about the other Metro City. Suddenly, a flood of questions entered her mind about what the alternate city was like compared to theirs.

Megamind faltered. "Uh…long story. Shall we continue?"

Wayne didn't move. "Wait! We can't just leave him here. What if he wakes up?"

"Good idea," said Megamind. In a flash, the unconscious Hal was a little blue cube.

"Y-you…there you go again! Randomly shooting innocent people!" spluttered Wayne.

"Hal is hardly innocent, especially if he was trying to spy on us. If Mayhem Man really sent him out here for recon, then we don't have much time to get inside and repair this thing."

Megamind pocketed the cube and took off again as though he knew exactly where the secret basement entrance was located. The brain bots immediately followed and resumed carrying the time machine. Roxanne fell into step beside him with Wayne lagging behind now. His arms folded across his skinny chest in a sullen way. The way his face was pinched up made him look like he smelled something bad. For the rest of the walk, he said nothing else. By the time they reached the edge of the trees, Megamind held out an arm to stop them as he surveyed the lawn. No one was out. He glanced expectantly at Wayne.

"Lead the way," he said.

Wayne narrowed his eyes and grumbled about being pushed around on his own property, but took off across the lawn nevertheless.

This side of the forest looked exactly like the other side. If there really was a secret entrance, it was invisible to all prying eyes. Wayne approached a nondescript tree and pressed his thumb to the bark. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't a tree at all, but a very good copy of the real thing. A panel popped out and swung up at an angle, revealing an entry point with a round groove. He stuck his hand inside his shirt at the neckline and pulled out a chain, which held a ring-shaped device that glowed. The point of it was rounded and slipped into the groove with ease.

"At least you know how to use a binky properly," Megamind groused, earning him a glare from his lookalike.

He turned the glowing ring to the right. A couple of yards past the tree, a section of ground lifted, revealing the promised basement entrance. White lights lit up around the edge of the grass-covered top and down through a concrete tunnel. Wayne closed the panel on the tree and made his way over to the basement entrance. Megamind looked like he was trying his best not to appear impressed by the 007-like garage as he entered behind his twin. Roxanne walked down the tunnel last with the brain bots in tow. She turned and watched the grass-covered door slide closed with a heavy metallic thud. This guy had really thought of everything.

Just wait until she told Wayne that Mayhem Man wanted to murder him on live television…

The brain bots hovered above the group, awaiting further instructions from Megamind. They had placed the time machine in the middle of the lab. Under the bright lights, the damage looked much worse. It wasn't just a scratch here or a dent there. The side was caved in to the point that it looked like a giant U. A lot of the metal paneling on that side was also missing, leaving the delicate circuitry exposed. Roxanne was doubtful that it could be repaired anytime soon, despite Megamind's insistence that he could fix everything in less than half the time it would take a human mechanic. Seven, in the meantime, was following her around like a baby duck. It would have been cute except for the razor-sharp appendages he wiggled anytime someone got too close.

But that was only the half of it. Even though Wayne had spoken to her earlier, he'd not said much else since. It was obvious that his lonely lifestyle had marked his personality. She'd tried a few times to draw him out with idle chatting, but his one-word answers produced nothing but awkward silences. It was apparent that he wasn't used to people and now he was suddenly surrounded by them. Every so often, she caught him staring at her when he thought she wasn't looking. He'd blush and return his attention to the time machine. It was obvious to her now why he'd never returned her call for an interview from years ago. People in general seemed to startle him. Even his clone made him jump. Megamind had accidentally bumped him, causing Wayne to flinch and withdraw into himself a little more. How could such a scared, little man handle the drastic news that Mayhem planned to murder him tomorrow night on national TV?

Meanwhile, Minion was ogling the mechanical ape suit. Megamind had explained its function in detail while Wayne just stood there, looking sour. The little fish, who'd spent his entire life confined to a tank indoors, was drinking in every word.

"Do you think maybe I could try it on?" he asked eagerly.

"Of course!" said Megamind. "I'll need the assistance of my fantastic fish to help me kill Mayhem Man, and to get home of course."

Minion spluttered, a cocoon of bubbles enveloping his little body. "KILL MAYHEM MAN?"

"That is what I said," he confirmed. He turned to Wayne. "Where can I get Minion out of the tank?"

"What do you mean KILL MAYHEM MAN?" Minion yelled, fins flapping wildly.

"Bedroom," Wayne said in a clipped tone.

"Brain bots, fill Minion's suit with water!" he ordered, pointing. "There's a sink over there."

Megamind headed towards Wayne's bedroom while the brain bots carried the metal ape suit to one of the sinks in the lab table. As the bowl slowly filled up, Minion followed along in his tank behind Megamind, throwing out one scolding after another.

"Killing Mayhem Man is not a solution! He's unkillable!"

"I don't think that's a word, Minion," Megamind mused. "Not that I'd know. You know how I am with words," he said, leaning forward to activate the retinal scanner on the wall that accessed the room.

"I absolutely forbid it! You are not to go anywhere near Mayhem Man! The guy's insane and a murderer! You will not go near him with a ten-foot pole or a ten-foot anything else! Do you hear me, Sir?"

Megamind glanced up at the tank with an annoyance. "You aren't nearly so uptight in the other timeline. Whatever my whim, you comply."

Minion glared down fiercely at his duplicate Sir. "Then that other Minion sullies the name of caretaker! It's our job—our sole purpose in life—to make sure you're safe!"

"Come off it, Minion. This is child's play and I am a professional. I know what I'm doing."

The way he said that had Roxanne wondering just what exactly he meant by being a professional. The bedroom door slid open and he crossed the threshold. Minion immediately followed in his tank, yelling at his heart's content about probable dismemberment and certain death. Roxanne watched, amused that the little fish cared so much. It wasn't just Megamind's bond with Roxanne that had transferred over to this crazy timeline—Minion's had too, obvious by the way he was carrying on. Wayne's face was turned away from her, but she heard him mutter, "First Roxanne and now Minion. He's taking all of _my _stuff! Is he gonna just take my life too?"

"Minion, jump out of your tank." Megamind's voice drifted out of the bedroom. "I'll catch you."

"Only if you promise not to stir up trouble!" he countered.

"I can't do that, Minion. Mayhem's got to go."

A loud scuffle could be heard in the bedroom. Wayne flinched each time something fell off and hit the floor.

"Minion, don't make me come in there!" He shouted, stomping his foot loud enough to be heard out in the lab.

"You wouldn't dare!" he shrieked, sounding scandalized at the thought of his tank being invaded.

"Try me," he growled.

Then came a series of more scuffles followed by a few grunts and last, a very large splash. She quietly chuckled at the sight of Megamind walking out of the bedroom soaking wet, head held high in the air with dignity. Minion struggled against his captor's hands and managed to get loose. For a split second they all froze in shock and then leapt into action. The slippery fish just missed Megamind's fingers. Wayne made a grab for him, but his foot slipped in the puddles left by his twin. He tried to catch his fall by latching onto Megamind's arm. Both lost their balance and tripped, knocking their giant blue heads together. Minion flew through the air and straight into Roxanne's waiting arms. She let out a huge sigh of relief and cradled him to her chest, unwilling to let go until she was satisfied he wouldn't slip out of her grasp.

"T 'anks," he mumbled against the material of her blouse.

"Oh! Sorry, Minion!" She turned him around and held him out in front of her to look him over. "You okay?"

"I think so." He appeared calm, but his big eyes still held a trace amount of panic. Then he seemed to shake it off and gave her a toothy grin. "Good catch!"

She smiled her thanks and rushed over to the robotic suit. The brain bots carefully lowered it down until it set upright on the floor of the lab. Megamind got to his feet, rubbing his head. Wayne stayed on the floor also rubbing his head, sending a mean look his twin's way. The gesture was lost on Megamind, who pointedly ignored Wayne's existence. He brushed a wet sleeve across his dripping face and pushed a few buttons on front of the ape suit. The metallic limbs shuddered to life. A tiny whirring sound sent a ripple through the water as the system booted up. Megamind motioned Roxanne over to the entry point at the top of the bowl. She gently lowered Minion into the water and stepped back.

It was obvious Minion could barely contain his glee, despite his angry outburst only moments ago. His little body shook with excitement as he swam in a small circle inside his new home. Megamind opened a small hatch in the chest and Roxanne watched in fascination as he punched codes into a keypad. Just above it rested a red light and green light. Currently, the red light was on, but a few more key punches from Megamind and the light switched to green.

He popped the hatch closed. "This will tingle a little, Minion," he warned and added quickly at the scared expression on his friend's face, "But it won't hurt! You always said it feels good actually."

"Why does it tingle?" asked Roxanne, unable to suppress her curiosity.

"It's just the computer calibrating, running diagnostics—that sort of thing—before it connects to the signal in the antenna on the back of Minion's head."

"Cool," she murmured, eying the suit appreciatively. "This is just—amazing. There's no other word for it."

Megamind smirked. "It is, isn't it? I'm just too good."

She rolled her eyes. "Egotistical much?"

He just grinned and her heart fluttered. She cleared her throat and looked away—anywhere but Megamind. Luckily, Minion broke the moment of tension when the aforementioned tingle made him shiver.

"Weird," he said. Then he looked up at Megamind. "What do I do?"

"It's kind of like how our brains are wired," he explained. "The brain sends the signal to the limb. All you have to do is concentrate on raising your right arm. The antenna sends the signal to the computer, which in turn, sends it to the arm." He placed each of his hands on the metal arms. "Let's give it a trial run." A mild panicky look passed over Minion's face until Megamind patted one of his hairy ape shoulders. "You're a highly advanced species of fish, Minion. It won't take you long to master the suit at all."

The aquatic alien puffed up a little at the praise and firmed up his toothy jaw with determination. Megamind worked with him a while longer, trying to coordinate the fish's movements with the suit's. Roxanne watched for a few minutes as they practiced. Wayne didn't utter one word. He was still sitting on the floor in the puddle leftover from Megamind's trek into the fish tank. She glanced at him every so often, wondering what the root of his hostility was towards Megamind. They had been sniping at each other all night, rather like very competitive twins each trying to beat the other with their genius. She couldn't help but be concerned as Wayne's eyes grew colder…_harder_.

A shiver rattled her shoulders. The lab was a little chilly and she blinked sleepily. He eventually lost interest in Minion's robo-suit lessons and rested his chin on his knees, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Um…Wayne?"

His entire body jerked and his head swung around to make eye contact, which he immediately broke to look at his shoes. "Yes, Roxanne?"

"You okay? I mean…with all this craziness?"

A shadow passed over his blue face. He still wouldn't look at her. "Nothing I can do about it."

She sat down by him, but left enough space so he wouldn't be uncomfortable since he obviously didn't want to be touched. His eyes widened a little and he tensed, but he didn't move away. "Just the same, I feel like I'm running circles."

"Circles the supposed genius caused," he grumbled, picking at his shoe lace. He didn't bother keeping his voice down, which probably didn't matter. Megamind was either too engrossed in instructing Minion or ignoring Wayne altogether—and it was probably the latter. She frowned. How were they supposed to help each other if they couldn't get along? With luck, Megamind would be successful in his attempt to get home. No matter how big the Earth was, it definitely wasn't big enough for two aliens with egos the size of the cosmos.

That led her to her next words, but she had to tread lightly. Wayne had a right to know that there was now a price on his head. She took a deep breath. "You should know that Mayhem Man came to me and demanded I put you on the air so that he could—so that he _can_—" She stopped.

"What?" he asked, finally looking at her.

"Kill you to teach you a lesson," Megamind finished.

Roxanne narrowed her eyes. "Nice job on the sensitivity."

He shrugged. "Wayne is a walking-on-eggshells kind of guy, that is true, but there's no point in beating around the bush. We don't have the time."

Roxanne glanced worriedly at Wayne. Of all the reactions to being told that someone was planning to murder you, laughter was the least expected. "Why is that funny? He's planning to break your neck, Wayne!"

"Pfft! Not my neck! _Megamind_ is the star of that video and it was _Megamind_ that caught Mayhem's attention." He stood up quickly and plopped down on one of his lab stools, tugging on his wet jeans and managed to keep a nose in the air. "From where I sit, I have nothing to worry about."

"Sir, you're in just as much danger, as…uh…Sir," Minion pointed out, successfully taking a couple steps forward. "When Mayhem Man finds out that there are _two _of you, he won't stop with just one of your deaths."

Wayne glanced over at his aquatic friend. "Your concern is appreciated as always, Minion, but I'm not leaving this basement." He pointed a skinny blue finger at Megamind. "I agreed to help you fix your time machine and I won't go back on my word, but I will not lift a finger to do anything else. If you're so bent on killing Mayhem, then you're doing it without me."

Megamind stared hard at Wayne, his eyes narrowed a fraction. "Very well. It's not like I need you anyway." Wayne shifted uncomfortably on his stool. "Being a reformed supervillain myself, I have decades of experience at concocting plans of destruction. But will you really help me fix this time machine so that I can go home?"

"I already said I would, didn't I?" he snapped, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"Fair enough."

Roxanne shook her head, baffled. "Wait a minute. Back up. You're a reformed _supervillain_? Like our own resident murderer?"

"No, no, no! I'm nothing like Mayhem," he said with haste. "I never killed anyone. Not one single person."

"But what happened? What made you change?"

His cheeks colored. "That is a very long story too, but suffice it to say…you did."

Roxanne wasn't really sure what to do with all of this information. It was all so fantastic, nearly too much to be real. Never would she imagine in her wildest dreams that she'd have married a supervillain, but then again, Mayhem Man was her only reference to go by. Megamind though, gave a whole new meaning to the word.

Wayne snorted and stood up. "This is all very romantic, but can we just get started on the time machine repairs because I'm really sick of looking at you."

"I never thought I'd get tired of looking at my own handsome mug either, but I second that," he said. He looked at Roxanne. "You should probably go home and rest. The repairs will take half the night." Minion tilted a little too far to the left, but Megamind grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly.

"What about…" Megamind swallowed hard. "Bernard? You can't just leave him alone."

She pulled out her cell. "I've spent the night at the station before. I'll let him know."

"Roxanne, really. You can go home for a little while. The repair process is very boring anyway."

"But what if you need something?" Roxanne wasn't sure why she was doing this. Bernard was at home, waiting for her to come back. She just didn't want to leave. _Not yet_. "Besides, I really shouldn't be out on these streets so late by myself."

Megamind looked torn between yes and no. Her stomach dropped when he sighed and turned to face Minion again, saying over his shoulder, "Seven will never let you out of his sight and he is more than adequate protection from predators." He looked at the brain bot. "Seven, go with Roxanne and make sure she gets home safely. If you don't, I have no problem dismantling you."

The answering reply was a nasty little hiss from the floating cyborg, but he floated closer to Roxanne and lightly bumped her shoulder.

"Fine," she said, defeated. "But I'm coming back as soon as the sun's up."

He nodded. "Until…then," he said, shrugging. Wayne didn't even bother to say good-bye much less look at her.

After she left, Roxanne fidgeted all the way home in the driver's seat. Seven floated next to her on the passenger side. Leaving wasn't right…but neither was staying. This universal pull on her emotions had sapped nearly every ounce of what little energy she had left. Her heart felt like it was being tossed in two directions. She wanted to stay with Megamind for no other reason than to just stay. The cause of that overwhelming feeling was probably the bond he said they shared in that other reality, which had somehow survived his trip through time. He was right, it was _really_ strong. But Bernard needed her at home. She was his wife, not Megamind's.

She stuck her phone back into her pocket. Bernard wasn't answering. She'd promised him earlier that she'd call to let him know when she was headed home. A funny feeling made her stomach clench. He was probably just asleep. It was getting late after all.

As she stood outside of her apartment door, key in hand, she was glad to be there. Today had been exhausting and tomorrow probably wouldn't be much better. Maybe all she needed was a quick power nap and then she could go back. The door squeaked in protest, making her cringe. Rather than disturb Bernard, she opted to leave the lights off. Once all of the door locks were secure, she turned to head for the couch…and froze after one step. Seven's metal hackles rose, razor appendages flaring. His metallic hiss was low and frightening.

The balcony doors were wide open, letting a chilling breeze into the apartment. They were never left open. Bernard had always thrown hissy fits about mosquitoes and flies anytime she had tried enjoying nice weather. It was possible that he'd forgotten, but she dismissed that thought as soon as it crossed her mind. Her husband's door and window-locking routines were as thorough as his nightly nose-blowing ritual.

She flicked the light switch on and gasped. Her antique dining table was in ruins, split down the middle. Glass from a shattered dinner plate mingled with bits of food all over the rug.

"BERNARD!" she shouted. No answer.

Roxanne fled towards the closed bedroom door, but was blocked by Seven. He pushed against her until she took a step away from the door. One of his razor legs closed over the knob and twisted slowly, revealing a sliver of dark. He pushed it open wide enough to accommodate his frame and floated inside. Through the sliver she could see his red optic glowing on the walls as he investigated.

His mechanized voice made soft _bow-bows _as he scanned the room. She jumped when the door suddenly opened. Seven hovered on the opposite side. One of his metal arms flicked the light on and she rushed in.

He hadn't spoken before, but said in a robotic voice: "Intruder: negative."

She looked all over the bedroom for signs of a struggle, but there were none. Everything was exactly where she'd left it…except for Bernard. It was painfully obvious from the mess left in the living room what had happened. Mayhem had taken Bernard like some kind of twisted collateral damage in case she failed to deliver the news crew to Wayne Scott's home.

Roxanne dropped onto the sofa and leaned her head back against the cushions. Seven settled himself in her lap like a dog, but his optic continued monitoring the room, especially the open balcony. A growl of anger built in her throat. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she forced them away. Now wasn't the time. Two wet streaks managed to break free anyway, leaving hot trails down her cheeks. Poor Bernard. He wasn't supposed to be part of this, but Mayhem had acted in typical supervillain fashion and changed the rules of the game.

Now there were no rules. A sense of urgency stole over her, compelling her to move. She wrapped an arm around Seven and carried him into the bedroom. In less than five minutes, she'd changed out of her work clothes into a t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. For some reason, she had a feeling she might be running for her life in the next twenty-four hours. The least she could do for her feet was to make them comfortable.

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay. I haven't been busy, but I have had the writer's block from hell! This chapter got harder to write everyday. I don't know what the problem is, but it's driving me crazy! I want to finish this story so bad, but I just don't have the motivation. I've watched the movie a few times for inspiration, but it hasn't helped yet. Grrrrr….I hate making everyone wait! Course, I have been reading fics from several other fandoms so my attention is waning in the Megamind world. Don't worry though, I promised myself that I would finish this and that's what I'll do! Again, please review and lemme know whatcha think!**

**Wayne is being kind of mean isn't he? …and don't forget about Hal…like Megamind did when he jumped into Minion's tank. :-)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine.**

**A/N: Um….I am soooooooo SORRY! This writer's block has been the worst I've had in years. This chapter turned out to be 20 pages! I don't like writing super-long chapters, h****owever, I think every one of my readers deserves it after giving me such nice words of encouragement while I had this horrible bout of writer's block. I think I'm over it now and I hope I can get another chapter out soon. Keep your fingers crossed because I'm so close to the end. **

Chapter 17: It's Mega-Showtime

Megamind tossed Hal—still in the shape of a blue cube—onto the lab table next to the other blue cubes he'd collected from his fight the day before. It was tempting to crush them all under the heels of his beloved boots, especially Hal. Except that he couldn't tell which one he was. The cubes were identical. He'd better not then. Besides, it might scratch the supple leather and Roxanne would never let him order another pair of the expensive baby seal boots no matter how attractively they molded to his feet.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to find an alternative though...

"Hey, Wayne? You don't happen to have a pit of alligators down here do you?"

Wayne's head popped out of the time machine and he pushed up his welding goggles. "A pit of alligators? Wait. Don't tell me…you've got one."

"Every responsible evil overlord has one."

He arched an eyebrow. "But I thought you were _supposedly _a good guy now?"

"Oh, I am! I am!" he said hastily. "It was just a question. Sheesh!"

"Does Roxanne know you have an alligator pit?" Minion asked disapprovingly, putting his hands against the hips of his new mechanical suit.

"Of course! She almost fell in it once. And I tell my wife everything!" More or less. Less.

Minion and Wayne shared a skeptical look. "Maybe I should rephrase the question," said Wayne. "Does Roxanne know you _still _have an alligator pit?"

Megamind tilted his pointy blue nose up at his twin. "FYI, yes she knows the pit is still there."

Then he added under his breath, "She just doesn't know there are still alligators in it."

Wayne shook his head and shoved his welding goggles back into place. "Yeah, you sound like a reformed supervillain all right. If there is such a thing." He stepped inside the time machine to continue repairing the damaged console. "If Roxanne was my wife, _I _wouldn't keep secrets from her."

Megamind's eye twitched. Wayne was just trying to goad him with the constant comparison of what he _wouldn't_ do were he Megamind. As if he could fathom such a responsibility.

He sneered at his twin. "Your point?"

Wayne's whiny voice echoed around the sphere. "My point, Megastupid, is that I'd have an open and honest relationship with Roxanne. I wouldn't lie about secret alligator pits. I'd be a reformed supervillain and really mean it—not be a pretend hero."

"I'm not a pretend hero!" he yelled.

"Sirs! If you please," begged a frantic Minion, stepping between them with his arms out. "Fighting solves nothing!"

Megamind held up his hands, conceding to his fishy friend's advice. "You are right, Minion, as always." He picked up a crowbar and began removing the damaged paneling on the outside. "However, you wouldn't last one day in my shoes. You'd crumble into a pathetic pile of anxiety-ridden goo."

The wuss.

A loud popping sound reverberated around the metal walls of the sphere inside. "Well, this is just stupid," said Wayne. "Only an idiot would come up with a design like this."

Megamind ground his teeth, but said nothing. It was safer that way...safer for Wayne.

"Sir, it you can't say anything nice, don't say anything," Minion reprimanded while he practiced doing jumping jacks.

"He said a bunch of mean stuff too and I don't see you defending me," Wayne complained.

But Minion, having already mastered the jumping jack, was now attempting to walk backwards with his eyes closed.

Ever since Roxanne left, they'd been working nonstop to repair the time machine and had covered a lot of ground. The sphere was partially crushed. Bits of twisted and torn circuitry stuck through the cracked metal, pulverized when he'd careened into that tree. Various fractures marred the once glittering metal. It was also a little lopsided. Megamind preferred his inventions to sparkle like new, but aesthetics were at the bottom of the list. All he cared about right now was making sure that it worked long enough to get him home.

All Wayne seemed to care about was criticizing Megamind's designs…Megamind's ideas…_Megamind_. He was treading on dangerous ground and just might be on his way to dehydration number three if he didn't shut his mouth. Or better yet, he could hit him with the D-ecoupage setting. Minion's previous interior decorating project was still loaded in the gun.

The thought of Wayne covered in pink flowers definitely had merit. Megamind chuckled darkly.

"What's so funny?" Wayne demanded, peering around the edge of the time machine door.

"Nothing _you'd _understand," he said snidely. "My design is a technological marvel by the way."

"Yeah, twenty years ago."

Megamind snapped impatiently to the nearest brain bot that was holding the drill. The little bot placed the tool in his hands. He yanked out a screw and dropped it carelessly on the floor. "For your information, I made do with what I had since I didn't have a bottomless bank account at my beck and call."

Wayne's snort echoed across the metal. "Hmph, that's still no excuse for a sloppy design."

"Not so sloppy considering it worked and I'm stuck here with you," he countered.

On the inside, Wayne was inspecting the control panel that had shorted out. Megamind _really_ didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was lucky to have his help. There was no one else on the planet that could understand the mechanics involved. He didn't even have to give him instructions. That giant brain identical to his knew exactly what to do, and he estimated that they'd finish in an hour.

A tiny hissing nose drew his attention downward. The closer he got, the stronger something gently blew against his skin. The hose had a breach, which was venting oxygen into his face. The tanks had probably been leaking ever since he crashed into that tree. They must be close to empty by now.

It had been a last minute decision to install oxygen tanks onto the time machine. The sphere was capable of space travel. This line breach would have to be repaired immediately since part of his plan to kill Mayhem Man required a little trip off-planet.

Operation Final Frontier was Megamind's last resort. It always had been the granddaddy of his plans since the early years of doing battle with Metro Man, but he'd never planned to use it. Now that he was forced to use it...well, he was admittedly, somewhat nervous. There was no going back from this plan. He wasn't sure it would work either or if he would survive. That was why he'd shelved this particularly dangerous idea.

He dug through Wayne's tool box and pulled out a roll of duct tape and then wrapped it around the torn hose. Hopefully, it would slow down the leaking until he could procure more oxygen.

"So in your reality…your parents…_our_ parents…are dead too?"

Megamind froze and glanced up at Wayne, who stood there waiting for an answer. On his face was a mask of casual curiosity and yet the eyes told an eerily similar story. He'd seen that look in his own eyes. Ghosts of the past reared their ugly heads sometimes. There were days when it was difficult to shake them off—difficult knowing that he'd never see his home planet and that he would never know his parents. But Roxanne would smile, kiss his cheek, or hold his hand, and then Minion would make something delectable and sing happy little tunes. The ghosts weren't nearly so scary then.

He put the duct tape back into the tool box and said softly, "Yes, they're gone."

"Oh."

Wayne went back to work, reaching into the innards of the console. There was a small spark, but he paid it no mind and continued the repairs.

Megamind leaned against the door frame, watching his twin closely. "And though it was literally the end of our home world…it was just the beginning of mine."

"What do you mean?" he asked with curiosity.

"Roxanne," he said simply.

"She really was the reason? For you turning in your supervillain card?"

He smiled nostalgically. "She never treated me a like a freak just because I was an alien with an amazing intellect." He shrugged. "Though the black leather and the steel spikes coordinate very well with my complexion, she somehow got underneath all of that and liked me for me no matter how many times I'd kidnapped her."

Wayne smirked, as though confirming something. "Stockholm Syndrome? She fell in love with her tormenter?"

Megamind rolled his eyes. "Far from it. The supervillain wasn't the real me and she knew it," he said, picturing a pair of blue eyes that knew him inside and out. "Sneaky reporter that she is."

"What else happened? I mean, how did you get together?"

"It's a long story," Megamind sighed. "A nice one, but long. And we really don't have the time for a break."

"Oh, come on. I like a good science fiction."

"It's not science fiction! It's fact!" he retorted.

"Of course it is," he mocked. "Because beautiful women fall in love with us loser geeks all the time."

"Well, I'd like to hear the story," Minion spoke up. "If you don't mind giving us a condensed version, Sir."

"Anything for _my_ best friend," Megamind indulged, ignoring Wayne. "It all started-"

The intercom suddenly flared to life, and Basil the butler's voice echoed around the lab.

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Scott," he drawled, "but Roxanne Ritchi has returned."

The real Mr. Scott opened his mouth to answer, but Megamind beat him to the punch, ignoring the hostile look thrown his way.

"I thought I told her to go home and rest. Stubborn woman no matter what timeline she's in."

"Timeline? Excuse me, Sir?" Basil asked, confused.

"Nothing!" Megamind snapped. "Please send her down here right away."

"Of course, Sir. And I must caution you, she's rather out of sorts. I'm afraid something terrible must have occurred."

Megamind snapped to attention. What was wrong with his Roxanne? Had Mayhem paid her a visit? Was she hurt? He didn't have to wait long to find out. She rushed into the basement and threw her arms around his neck. The mildly psychopathic brain bot Seven, hovered right behind her, ready to slice and dice if he felt his mistress was in trouble.

"Roxanne! What happened? Are you hurt?"

"He has Bernard!" she blurted.

He pulled her back. Her eyes were bloodshot and wide with panic. He didn't need to ask. "Mayhem Man."

She nodded. "The apartment was a wreck and..." Her mouth trembled. "The balcony doors were open and there was no sign of Bernard."

Megamind was a little callous with regards to Bernard's well-being. Basically, he didn't care what happened to that man. He was married to Roxanne—Megamind's Roxanne. He loathed Bernard on principle. However, he pushed that aside for her sake. He smoothed her frazzled hair back and curled it around her ear. This was a Roxanne he wasn't used to. She was as courageous as always, but there was a desperate, pleading fear in her eyes that was difficult to see.

"I'll get him back," he promised.

Her mouth trembled. "You don't think he's already..." She couldn't bring herself to say it.

He shook his head. "Mayhem knows that he can't control you no matter how powerful he is. Bernard is leverage-his only way to make sure you don't double-cross him."

"Even if I do what he says, he'll kill Bernard anyway."

Megamind didn't doubt it, but he had to keep her calm. "I promise, Roxanne, that I will bring Bernard back to you no matter the cost." He didn't care what happened to him—just so long as Roxanne was happy...wherever she was or whomever she was with.

"But I don't want you to die either," she whispered.

"I won't," he said, filling his words with more confidence than he felt. "I was the supervillain before him. I know all the trade secrets...that and I'm a genius—which is not something Mayhem Man can possibly fathom."

Her shoulders squared, courage kindling in her eyes. "All right. So what's the plan?"

Wayne and Minion gathered round Roxanne to listen. He paced back and forth, hands behind his back as though instructing a classroom.

"Unfortunately, there is nothing on Earth capable of destroying Mayhem Man," he began.

"But I thought you said—" she started.

"_On Earth_," he emphasized.

"You can't be serious," said Wayne, eyes growing large.

"When you say on Earth...you mean something in space can kill him?" Roxanne surmised.

"Precisely."

She gasped. "But how is that possible? Do you have a spaceship or something?"

He patted the time machine. "This baby can travel to the next three galaxies without any problem."

"I see where this is going," said Wayne, folding his arms. "Your plan is crazy."

It wasn't surprising that he'd already picked up on Megamind's highly dangerous idea.

"He hasn't even told us what it is yet, Sir," defended Minion.

"He didn't have to. Isn't it obvious?"

Roxanne made an impatient noise. "Will one of you please tell me what you plan to do once you get Mayhem into space?"

Megamind glanced at Wayne, who returned the glower with stony quiet. "There is a black hole in this galaxy. All I have to do is lure him close enough to it, and he will be pulled in and crushed. Nothing can escape the dense gravity. Not even him."

Megamind, being the narcissist that he was, and with good reason, expected approval culminating in wild applause or cheering. Minion would possibly start a chorus of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow". All of the above would be appropriate. However, his plan received something he'd never gotten before.

Stone. Cold. Silence.

The hush of his stunned audience also rendered him speechless. Roxanne looked gob smacked. Minion fretfully wrung his metal hands together. Wayne regarded him coolly through narrowed eyes and was the first to speak.

"If you really have a death wish, then you could just let me incinerate you with my laser rifle. It would be faster, though less theatrical, than being crushed by a black hole."

"_I _will not be crushed. Weren't you listening?" he griped.

"Sir, you can't," said Minion, feet clanging as he stomped over to Megamind to grasp his shoulders. "As your caretaker, I will not allow you to endanger yourself. I don't care how terrible Mayhem Man is."

"That's funny because I thought you were _my_ caretaker," said Wayne sullenly.

"There are two of you so now that means double caretaker duty, Sir!" cried Minion. He turned back to his newest charge. "Sir, going into space? There are too many ways this can wrong!"

Megamind patted his fishbowl. "Danger. Schmanger. This isn't my first rodeo and it won't be the last."

"I wish I could talk to the other Minion," he said, flashing his fangs. "He has been entirely too indulgent with your crazy whims!"

"Yes, the odds of success are a dismal three percent. That's why I never used it on Metro Man to begin with. Despite being his arch nemesis, I didn't actually _want _to kill him."

Minion wasn't done. "But he defies physics alone just by flying. How can you be sure he won't escape a black hole?"

"I'm not," he admitted with a shrug. "The black hole will pull him in, but I could also be caught by the gravity. That's why there's only a three percent chance I'll live. It's the last card up my sleeve and, I have to try."

Wayne didn't look impressed by any of it. In fact, his glower was so prominent now that he looked like he had a uni-brow. Back at home, Minion would have blindly followed him into the black hole without question and had no problems wielding the Forget-Me-Stick should a firmer hand be required. This Minion, however, wasn't about to live dangerously.

"Allowing you to participate in crazy schemes was not what your parents had in mind when they chose me to be your minions," he protested.

"_My_ minion isn't here, Minion," he pointed out.

"Don't split hairs, Sir!"

"I don't have any to split."

Minion huffed. "Well, if you won't listen to me, then I—I'm going with you. Someone has to look after you up there."

"Absolutely not. I will be going alone. Your place is with Wayne."

"But—"

Megamind held up a hand to silence his best friend. Minion's little body swelled, which made him look a pufferfish. He turned his back on Megamind, but the ape suit didn't move. Lastly, he looked at Roxanne, who'd yet to protest or say anything at all. She seemed to understand that he was waiting for her.

"Megamind, it is a crazy plan, but isn't that what being a hero is all about? You take the risks and the world is rewarded." She grasped his hand. "I'm terrified that something will go wrong, but...I believe in you."

Good gosh! How he wanted to kiss her! Well, she'd be getting a big, sloppy one if—_when_—he got home.

"Thank you, Roxanne," he said quietly, extricating his hand from hers to lace his fingers behind his back. He didn't trust them not to reach out and grab her. They had a mind of their own when it came to her. "... Minion?"

The little fish spun around to shoot him a dirty look. "My opinion hasn't changed, but I also know that you're just like Mr. Scott—pig-headed, cantankerous, obsessive, and... you're the only person on the planet capable of saving it."

He nodded thanks to his aquatic friend, and looked to Wayne last, who wore a poker face.

"I don't care, just so long as you get out of my house."

Megamind clapped his hands together. "Excellent! First things first. The time machine repairs must be completed, and we are nearly done. "

"After that?" asked Roxanne.

He grinned slyly. "After that, you are going to interview me instead of Mayhem."

"Okay, what kind of questions will I be asking?"

"I will challenge that grease slick to a duel. You will point out my amazing qualities: my intellect, my glistening blue pate, Mayhem's inept abilities for everything...doesn't matter, just so long as you really rile him up good."

Roxanne nodded firmly. "I can do that." It took him by surprise when she hugged him suddenly. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for helping us."

"You're welcome, Roxanne," he whispered against her cheek and smiled when he felt her shiver.

Minion's first attempt at hugging someone with his robotic suit nearly crushed his ribs. "I have to thank you too, Sir. We couldn't do this without you."

Megamind gasped for air. "Can't...breathe!"

Minion released him and looked at his metal hands in surprise. "Wow! I'm strong!" The little fish looked incredibly pleased with himself even though he'd nearly squished his best friend. "I'm sorry, Sir! Did I break anything?"

He massaged his side. "Don't let the slim physique fool you. I'm quite durable."

Roxanne hurried back outside to get equipment from her news van. Megamind instructed Minion to assist her while he resumed repairs. There was very little time left, but that didn't matter now. He just focused on the task and blocked out everything around him.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been working in silence until Wayne suddenly spoke up. He'd forgotten he wasn't alone in the lab.

"So, Megamind, have you considered what will happen if you die?"

"I'm trying not to. The ultimate goal of all of my plans mostly involves not dying."

"I meant have you thought about the rest of us if you fail?"

Megamind gave him a blank look. "The rest of who?"

"Metrocity, you dimwit! If you fail, which is highly probable, Mayhem Man will succeed in killing you. And in case you haven't noticed, he's got one nasty temper and he'll stomp the city flat in payback. Then he'll execute us all. Your failure will be our destruction."

Megamind waved away his points, though they were alarmingly valid. "I'll just have to do my best to keep that from happening. No plan ever goes exactly as I predict, but I'm a genius and an old pro at improvisation."

"That ninety-seven percent margin of error is your very own black hole."

"Stop second-guessing my plan, Wayne!" he snapped. "I have to try. For Roxanne."

"More glory for the so-called superhero," he snarled.

"Something you know nothing about! You accuse _me_ of not caring about the citizens, but what have you ever done for Metrocity? There is so much that brain can accomplish, but instead you hide down here like a hermit and play with your toys while the city above your head is rotting! All of that genius is nothing but a big, fat waste."

Wayne slammed the cover of the console shut. "I'm done with the repairs." Without another word or even a glance, he stalked into his room.

Megamind could only shake his head. Inventing a time machine had been his worst idea yet. It had caused nothing but trouble. But he couldn't do anything about that now. So Megamind forgot about Wayne, also finished his repairs, and waited for Roxanne and Minion to return.

* * *

><p>Mayhem stood on the roof of his prison lair and stared across the horizon of broken skyscrapers. It was fun to bring down an entire building and hear the cries of the people trapped inside. Most of the structures were still standing, but many were missing windows, were twisted like pretzels, or leaned a little too far to one side. One of them was so tilted that it had been declared structurally unsound.<p>

Now _that_ had been a fun day. Guns weren't really his thing. They were completely impractical for a god of his power. What would have been the point? The puny human firearm was not entirely useless though, because in his mighty hand, one bullet flew faster than any gun could shoot. He had stood in this very spot with a handful of bullets and flicked them one at a time through the air faster than a machine gun. He'd made a lopsided smiley face in the side of the building. Glass had rained down on the people below and they'd all scattered like cockroaches.

Good times.

There were plenty of other buildings waiting in the wings in case he was feeling artistic again. Just the thought of causing mayhem sent his blood racing. There was so much he was capable of destroying. No one could stop him from ripping the Earth in two-if he were so inclined. It wouldn't take much. A little push here. A little shove there. Crack! No more Earth. Then he could slingshot the leftover pieces into the moon.

Maybe he would. He hadn't caused any unnatural disasters lately. Mayhem got bored really fast, and he tended to fly on the darker side of destruction when that happened. He was always trying to break his own records. The melted observatory and its million-dollar equipment on the island overlooking the city were proof enough.

Truth be told, this planet was just more of the same old same old. He'd run out of ideas. Demolishing this place wasn't as fun anymore. There were a multitude of other cities across the globe to have some fun with, but at the end of the day, they were all like Metro City. People would run and scream. The buildings would crumble. Fires would break out. Police sirens would fill the air. He'd smash or burn everything in sight.

Yada yada yada... predictably boring.

Sometimes random do-gooders fought back, hoping to start a revolution. Noble. But very stupid. He'd killed everyone that had decided to play the hero to his villain. Eventually, people gave up their insurrection attempts because there was no one alive capable of challenging him. No one could stand up to his super strength, which made fighting somewhat mundane. Even the sound of screaming victims wasn't as catchy as it used to be.

He needed a challenge, and finding one was a luxury these days...until he saw Hal's video of Wayne Scott fighting back. That blue twerp had actually refused to be mugged by his best muscle. His audacity was insulting...and yet Mayhem was intrigued.

Was this the challenge he'd been craving?

He could crush the bones in that skinny body to a fine, blue powder. However, he wanted to see what that alien had up his sleeve first. His adopted parents Lord and Lady Scott had always known their place in Metro City. They didn't get in Mayhem's way and he didn't kill them—provided they slipped him a hefty payday once a month for his generosity in letting them live.

Wayne Scott was a billionaire genius, and even though Mayhem wasn't interested in technology, he'd been paying attention to Scott's inventions. He'd revolutionized computers, home security systems, video games, and everything else techno. Scott owned the industry, and by the looks of that video, knew how to hold his own in a fight. Anyone with that kind of super intelligence and fighting skill was worthy of a showdown.

A rustle of fabric from the floor below—where his game rooms were located—caught his attention. He turned away from the wrecked skyline, did a back flip over the ledge, and hovered in an open window. The sight before him produced a wicked grin.

"How'ya holding up, Bernard?"

He sauntered over to his captive and surveyed his handiwork. Possessing super breath was so cool sometimes. _Literally._ Roxie's hubby was a little indisposed at the moment. Mayhem glanced at the ice pinning Bernard's hands and legs to a wall. He leaned in for a closer inspection.

"Hmm, not looking too good, are we?" he said as though speaking about the weather. "Your fingers are turning blue. You may lose some to frostbite."

Bernard didn't say anything. In fact, he hadn't said one word since Mayhem had thrown him to the mercy of his idiot henchmen. A bloody nose, split lip and two black eyes hadn't even gotten a response out of the puny librarian. Either he was dumb or playing it smart.

"I'm impressed, Bernard. Most men would be a blubbering mess, but you have been admirably non-whiney. You're the best hostage yet." He smacked his face and Bernard winced, but held his tongue. "But...you're not being a very good _guest_. I've opened my home to you and not once have you paid me any compliments on the decor or my kind hospitality. Tsk, tsk, Bernie."

Mayhem still got nothing but chilly silence for a response. His short attention span was growing bored with the silence. Time for some..._mayhem_.

"I've been thinking...Roxie is really a beautiful woman. How'd you get her? I mean, it's pretty obvious who wears the pants. And boy does she wear them well," he added, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh, and what do chicks call those things..." He snapped his fingers. "Pencil skirts! Yeah, that's my favorite on Roxie. Real women have curves and all that jazz. Lots to hold on to."

Bernard turned his face away, still refusing to be baited.

"Yeah, Roxie's got more curves than a baseball and you get to have her all to yourself. Something about that just isn't fair. To solve everyone's needs, I've come up with the perfect solution. Time share. Course, I won't technically do any sharing. And it's not like you knew what to do with her anyway."

Bernard just stared back. No glare. No dirty look. Just an empty stare. Mayhem really was taken aback by the amount of control this geek had. Seriously, did the guy ever make any expression? The only way he knew that Bernard was human and not some automaton was the distinct thump thump of a heartbeat detected by his super ears. He'd been pretty sure that a few well-chosen inappropriate comments about Roxanne would get Bernard all hot and bothered, but so far the dweeb hadn't cracked. In fact, it was a little creepy.

"Most devoted husbands would be threatening to tear my head off by now." He snorted. "As if! But I do love their enthusiasm. Makes killing them much sweeter." Mayhem leaned against the wall and lightly smacked Bernard's face again. His head snapped to the side, but the scrawny man still said nothing. "Don't you love Roxanne? And I'm honestly asking because I can't tell one way or another. Your poker face is too good." When he didn't get an answer, he took Bernard by the chin and squeezed. "I'd advise you to answer me 'cause my patience is running out. Do. You. Love. Her?"

"Yes," he managed, teeth gritted.

"Finally! Because if you didn't, then the mind games wouldn't be as fun. Now maybe I should tell you exactly what I'm going to do to her, step by painful step. Maybe that will get a rise out of you, picturing me hurting her, because that's what I'm going to do, Bernard. She'll scream, _bleed_. I'll try not to kill her at first because I'm already looking forward to the second date."

"This is how you're gonna kill me, isn't it?" Bernard said, teeth chattering. "Talk me to death. It's the classic victim/supervillain scenario full of unnecessary exposition. Do you realize how much time you waste with all the pointless jawing?"

Mayhem tapped the side of his nose. "I see what you're doing, Bernie. Trying to rile me up with insults so that I _will _just go ahead and kill you." He shook his head. "Nice, but it ain't gonna work. The incredible edible Roxie doesn't even know you're here, so killing you right now would be a little pointless."

"And I'm the bait? So original."

The droning voice penetrated right through his eardrums. He sounded just as bored as Mayhem felt.

"Yes and no. Roxie will put me on the news with Wayne Scott while the entire city watches me break his neck. She's a rebellious brat though, and I don't trust her. You're my insurance."

"Why do you want to kill him on live TV?" For once, the inflection in Bernard's voice rose, the curiosity sounding genuine.

"He's too big for those skinny britches. Clearly, he and your wife need a little reminder. Everyone in Metro City is slacking lately. All of this insubordination is getting to be a nasty habit...and I just can't figure out why."

"Maybe it's because you're a murderer," he suggested.

"See, that's what I'm talking about. What you call murder, I call population control. I'm helping, but you and everyone else, insists on calling me dirty names." Mayhem closed his big hand around Bernard's throat. "I could flatten the entire city with one breath, but I haven't. Don't I spare the citizens from death on a daily basis, Bernie?" He squeezed tighter. The hue of Bernard's face morphed into a dangerous blue. "I show humans mercy and what kind of thanks do I get? Rebellion. And it all started with Roxanne."

Bernard started choking. Mayhem wasn't paying attention.

"Wayne Scott and that viral video have given the citizens dangerous ideas. Like hope and freedom. Scott and that meddling wife of yours probably cooked this up together. She's the voice of the city. Who better to help her start a revolution than an alien genius?" Bernard's eyes started to glaze over. "When you behave badly, you must be punished. Broadcasting his execution will remind everyone that there are _no _heroes in Metro City. As for Roxie, she'll wish for death, but she chose the tougher road because of her big mouth."

"Hey boss?"

Mayhem swung around, snarling, "What?"

His lackey faltered under the intense glare. "Um...w-weren't you supposed to bring Hal back by now?" He shifted nervously back and forth on his feet when Mayhem said nothing in response. I mean, we haven't heard from him since last night, and um...I j-j-just thought you...mi-might've forgotten…Sir," he added.

A tiny gasp for breath reminded him that he was crushing Bernard's windpipe. He sighed in irritation and let go. Killing him was pointless unless Roxanne was here. Bernard sucked in a huge breath and coughed so hard he nearly choked again.

"I did," he said.

"So...what do you want me to do?" asked his worthless subordinate.

"Take a group with you to search for Hal," he said, turning away from Bernard's boring whimpers of pain. "I don't have time to get him."

"Are we gonna bring him back here?"

"Yes, see if he found out what Wayne Scott's doing. Then shoot him and dump his body in the bay."

"You got it, boss." He ran out, afraid to stay in the room any longer than necessary.

The ice pinning Bernard's hands and feet to the wall spit droplets onto the floor. Hairline cracks spread through the ice every which way as it melted. Chunks fell off and bounced across the floor. He toppled forward and landed on his face, unable to catch himself. The limbs were too frozen to support his slight weight.

"I don't expect that doofus Hal to have found out anything useful. Not that I hired him for his smarts or any of the others for that matter. The bigger the muscle, the smaller the brain."

"S-s-spok-ken from per-sonal experience," Bernard stuttered, chest heaving with each lungful of air.

Mayhem chuckled. "That's another reason why I just haven't been able to kill you yet. Those snarky comments are too funny, Bernie."

"G-glad...to be...of service," he said with a groan as he pushed up from the floor to lean against the wall. He rubbed his hands together, trying to massage the blood back into his extremities.

Mayhem wasn't in any particular hurry to see Hal. He hadn't expected much from him in the first place. He glanced at little Bernie, who cradled his blue fingers against his chest. So fragile, human life. For such a short lifespan, they sure caused a lot of trouble. Luckily, they were easy to kill. He, on the other hand, would never die. No one could touch him. The universe was his playground.

"Hey, Boss?"

"Now WHAT?" he yelled, sending a whoosh of air towards the second guy that interrupted. The fierce wind gust blew his ball cap off, but he didn't dare pick it up.

"Um...there's something on TV. That Ritchi woman, she's interviewing Wayne Scott right now."

Mayhem started. She was _what_? Without waiting for more explanation, zoomed in front of the flat screen and turned it on. There they were, plain as day, standing side by side—the reporter and the alien.

"_Good evening, Metro City. We're coming to you live from a disclosed location. I am joined by none other than Mr. Wayne Scott, son of our wealthy _benefactors_." _Roxanne's mouth tilted up in one corner when she said benefactor, as though she meant another, less complimentary description. She turned to her guest. _"Mr. Scott, I must say that I was surprised when you called the news station requesting an interview." _

She flicked the microphone under his nose. _"Good evening, Ms. Ritchi. You are looking lovely—as always."_

Mayhem glanced at his hostage curiously. Bernard's gaze was fixed on the screen, but he looked just as dead-eyed as usual.

The tilt of her mouth deepened. _"Thank you, Mr. Scott. Just what exactly do you have to tell Metro City and its residents?"_

"_Well, Roxanne—may I call you that? ...I'm afraid that I have an apology to make first before I deliver my real message." _Scott actually appeared embarrassed as he shuffled and messed with the collar of his strange, spiked getup.

"_An apology for whom?"_

He cast his eyes down in shame. _"The people of Metrocity. I have been far from a benefactor, as you so graciously described me, and this city deserves much more. With my incredible intellect, striking features, and limitless funds, I should have been providing aid. But I've been a coward—hiding in disgrace while the people of this city sought refuge from the storm and found only suffering."_

Scott paused—obviously for effect. Roxanne laid a sympathetic hand on his arm, which seemed to revive him. _"Tonight, I am here to make amends and beg forgiveness from the people."_

Roxanne turned the mike back to her. _"How do you plan to do this?"_

Mayhem Man leaned over the back of his couch intently, gripping the cushions. His fingers went through them. The stuffing spilled out and the wood frame beneath the upholstery cracked.

"_I've been working on something special for many years, and I feel that the time is ripe to bring this incredible idea into fruition."_

"_Really? How intriguing, Wayne. Please continue."_

"_Metrocity has been in bondage far too long. I intend to change that."_

The embarrassment and shame vanished, replaced by a cool visage of confidence. A green fire burned in his eyes as Scott stepped directly in front of the camera. He didn't look remotely like the loser Mayhem had taken him for. Had the hermit act been fake all along?

"_Listen up, Muumuu Maaahn!"_

"_Um, Wayne, it's Mayhem Man," _Roxanne stage whispered behind him.

"_Is it? Oh, well that makes much more sense. Though I prefer muumuu. Listen up, Mayhem Man. I know that you were planning to execute me on live TV in about—" _He looked at his watch. _"Fifteen minutes. But I didn't feel like waiting because I'm a very busy billionaire with a large company to run and a supervillain to destroy."_

The camera panned out. Mayhem studied the room. It was stark white—like a medical facility, but he couldn't determine where it was located. Scott stood arrogantly in front of the camera, Roxanne's microphone under his nose.

"_It's time, citizens of Metro City, to put an end to this tyranny and take our city back from the vermin flying through the air! Tonight his reign shall end!"_

Roxanne gripped his arm. _"You are very brave, Wayne, to save the city and we are grateful that you are willing to fight for us. And we all know that Mayhem Man severely lacks the intelligence necessary to beat your genius, but he possesses strength superior that surpasses all known beings—including yourself. What do you have to say about that?"_

Mayhem couldn't wait to claw the conceited look off Scott's face when he said, _"The bigger they are, Ms. Ritchi..."_ He pointed a skinny finger into the camera lens. "_I challenge you, Mayhem Man in the battle to end all battles. Now go find a dictionary and look up all of the words you didn't understand and meet me on the cliff next to the melted observatory. You have approximately one hour."_

"_You have issued a challenge that will possibly result in your death, Wayne. Are you afraid?"_

"_Of course. To not feel it would be foolish," _he said humbly._ "But I don't let it control me. I embrace it as every hero nobly does and this gives me the strength necessary to do what's right."_

"_Which is?"_

Scott paused for a dramatic few seconds. In a grave voice, he answered, _"To save this city, the planet, and her people."_

"_Thank you, Wayne Scott." _The camera zoomed in on Roxanne's face. "_This is Roxanne Ritchi coming to you live. And I have one final statement for Mayhem Man: Come and get it."_

She made the signature graceful swipe of her hand to sign off and the screen went dark.

Mayhem's eyes glowed red with the rage of a thousand suns. The couch had long since disintegrated into a pile of charred fabric. Dual laser beams melted the flat screen into a plastic glob. He twisted. He turned. Everything in the room was taken out by the deadly rays of light spewing from his eyes like lava.

A scream of fury tore through his throat and sent a shock wave across the city, shattering windows and knocking people off their feet. He trembled so violently that the old prison facility quivered beneath his feet.

Mayhem balled his fists and slammed them into the floor. Again...again...and again. The foundation twenty stories below cracked. Again and again, he pummeled through each floor and unleashed his wrath on the helpless building. Support beams buckled. Electrical wiring was ripped from the walls and sparked, setting the rooms ablaze. Concrete rained down on everyone inside as the old prison came down, leaving in its wake a twisted pile of rubble.

The screams of his henchman echoed all around him, but he didn't care. The only thing Mayhem Man could see in front of his storming eyes was a blue face that he would pound and pound into the dirt until there was nothing left.

* * *

><p>Bernard stumbled all the way down the stairs. He'd had to take the long way. Going by elevator would have been stupid since this building was about to collapse any second now. Somehow, he was still able to use his feet, but not very well. He'd been frozen to the side of the building for hours. His toes and fingers tingled painfully.<p>

Mayhem's scream plunged through his ears like a knife. The force of it brought him to his knees. His hands pressed hard against his ears, but it didn't help. His glasses fell off and then the lenses shattered. Any sooner and he might have been blinded by the glass shards. Bits of concrete fell on his head, but he got up and forced his legs to move. He couldn't afford to stop.

There wasn't much time left to get out.

None of Mayhem's lackeys tried to stop him when he burst out of the stairwell. They were all running for dear life. He half-limped and half-ran, struggling toward the way out. Others did the same, pushing past him to escape. Once, he was knocked down, but he got right back up. Just ahead was the way out. Bernard put on an extra burst of speed, leaping over chunks of cement, and ignoring the pain in his feet. The door was in his sights, the handle at his fingertips.

He made one last grab for the door, but was a breath too late. The prison groaned and crumbled, spilling on top of him.

* * *

><p>Wayne Scott shut off the TV and threw the remote across the room. It knocked off one of his precious collectibles from a shelf, which broke into hundreds of worthless pieces. Normally, breaking such an expensive piece of movie memorabilia would make him cry, but right now he barely noticed. The interview Roxanne had just finished with Megamind clouded every part of his brain.<p>

He'd been called a coward on live television by that imposter! Megamind may have just been pretending to be him, but it felt like he'd been speaking directly to Wayne instead of a viewing audience. Hearing it said out loud made the sting that much worse.

He jerked the necklace on which hung his binky and shoved it in his mouth. Nervous fits always made him crave the security it provided. Yet it had another power. Some of his best and most creative ideas had spawned from one-on-one time with the binky.

Worst case scenario was that if Megamind failed in his plan to trick Mayhem into a black hole, then the entire city would suffer the consequences. It probably wouldn't take him long to find out that there were two of them. They would all die at the hands of a psychopathic supervillain.

But what if he succeeded? In all probability, Megamind would return to his own timeline. He'd go back to his happy life with a woman who loved him and continue as the hero of Metrocity.

Where did that leave Wayne?

He hated life here. It was rotten and unhappy. He was scared of his own shadow. Women thought he was creepy. His parents ignored him. Even Minion was starting to prefer Megamind. Roxanne, the one woman he'd had a crush on for years liked Megamind better than him. Wayne hadn't known she was married. He rolled his eyes at his own assumption. Like he would have ever had a shot with her if she'd been single.

If Megamind's plan worked, then Wayne would have to pretend the rest of his life that he'd been the one to do it. The city would think he was something he wasn't—a hero who'd faced death and won. But he'd know the ugly truth. That he hid down here in the basement while Metrocity stood on the brink of destruction.

Maybe he _was_ a coward. Either outcome, he was the loser. And it was all because of...

"_Megamind!_" he spat around a mouthful of binky.

He started all this trouble. Wayne gritted his teeth against the binky. It was time to stop thinking about the problem and come up with a solution. There was really only one.

He could leave. Pack up and take Minion. They could go into hiding. There was just one problem with this solution though...his giant blue head. Hiding it would take some creativity. Actually, he'd have to keep his entire body covered all the time.

If they left now, then Mayhem Man would believe he'd killed the real Wayne Scott and wouldn't come looking for another. It would be risky though because there was always the chance that Mayhem's superpowers might find him or that some random person would recognize him. This meant they'd have to relocate somewhere remote, like a desert island. But he couldn't live without technology. So where could they go and not be recognized? Was there anywhere on Earth capable of hiding them for good?

Yes. There was.

The binky fell out of his mouth and landed on the floor with a clatter. The solution had been staring him in the face the whole _time._ The old switcheroo. Just one place existed where Mayhem Man would never find him, and where he and Minion could live as real heroes, and where he could be married to the woman of his dreams.

Metrocity...the original. Wayne had a fully functional time machine too. Now was the time to use it.

**A/N: Actions scenes are coming up and it's hard for me to write those. I mean, I picture it in my head so clearly, but putting it to words always makes it sound stupid, lol. Anyway, thanks for reading...and again, I'm soooooooooooooooo sorry this took forever!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks and I don't know own any of it. But this particular story and idea are mine.**

**Chapter 18: It's a Mega-Switch**

"Seven, your mission is to protect Mommy at all costs. Don't you _dare_ leave her alone at any time for any reason. You fight for her until the last spark in your metal body short circuits. If you fail, I will personally dismantle you with my bare hands and then melt you down to make steel toes for my baby seal boots. You get me?"

Megamind's glare was so fierce that the usually impassive brain bot backed away just in case Daddy decided to make good on his threat early.

The brain bot's razor arms twitched. _"Directive Received: Protect Mommy."_

Megamind gave the cyborg a parting scowl. "Good. Oh, and don't kill Bernard—he's Mommy's friend." He lowered his voice to make sure no one heard. "But you can give him a good poke once in awhile when he misbehaves."

The glitchy cyborg had been around since Megamind's very first e-vil plan, which had involved a paint bomb similar to the one he'd made in school—only on a city-wide scale. It had taken the people by surprise because no one had expected there to be a supervillain living amongst them. The skyscrapers had been successfully painted a cool shade of blue, looking better than ever in his opinion.

Megamind had gotten ten years in prison—the first of many decades—as well as community service. He had been required to scrub the blue off of the buildings, however, his Super Soaper machine had been more powerful than he'd anticipated. Floods of suds had rained through the streets, soaking citizens, causing fender benders, and making babies cry all over the city. He'd gotten another five years tacked to his sentence for that stunt. Some thanks considering the city sparkled like new. The window-washing industry hadn't been too happy with him either because the Soaper had left them out of a job for months.

That was Roxanne's first day on the job for KMCP-8 News. Megamind remembered with perfect clarity how tantalizing she'd looked smeared in blue paint. When he was hanging by the scruff of his neck in Metro Man's meaty fist, Seven had made a valiant rescue attempt. The effort was futile against those godlike powers and the cyborg was smashed into the pavement.

Strangely, Roxanne had taken Seven into her arms and looked him over with the curious eye of a reporter. Seven's CPU had still been actively running when she picked him up and he'd scanned her before going offline. Being the only female he'd come into contact with, he'd categorically identified her with the moniker 'Mommy'.

Unfortunately, his glitches could never be repaired. Metro Man's potent punch had been irreversible to Seven's neural net and Megamind had been forced to dehydrate him after he turned cannibal on the other brain bots. Despite his issues, he'd never tried to bite Roxanne nor had his memory core forgotten her.

Seven floated away to assume guard duty, razor-sharp appendages casting a brilliant gleam under the lab lights. The little bot's attachment to Roxanne was a kind of cute, though the red optic was giving him the evil eye again. Roxanne gently patted the bot's glass dome in greeting after she and Minion returned. They'd just evacuated the entire Scott household. Mayhem probably didn't know that the interview had taken place in Scott Manor, but Megamind wasn't taking any chances with innocent bystanders.

"The house is all clear, Sir," Minion informed him. He looked around. "Where's Mr. Scott?"

"Holed up in his room like a true hero," Megamind said snidely.

Minion glanced at his best friend's room in concern, but Megamind was too busy prepping the time machine for space flight to see Minion disappear into the bedroom. He'd already removed the binky copy from the D-Gun and inserted it into the time machine. The real binky would have been preferable, but that was safely tucked away in the other timeline. Everything always worked better with the original, but the copy was better than nothing if occasionally unstable. He'd blown up enough of them to know that.

The time machine powered up without a problem and he initiated a launch sequence on the console. The coordinates in space for the black hole's location weren't difficult for him to locate. There were several in the Milky Way—he chose the closest, although it wasn't necessarily right next door. Getting there wasn't the problem though, Mayhem was. He could fly much faster than the sphere—something Megamind chose to ignore.

The other potentially lethal problem was the low oxygen. There hadn't been time get more so...he was trying not to think about that either. He tapped the console to do a quick check on the level of the tanks and sighed in relief. The duct tape appeared to have kept any more oxygen from leaking. The current levels would enable him to reach the black hole, but getting back was iffy.

In other words, this might be a one-way trip.

He was aware of Roxanne leaning against the opening of the time machine to watch him prepare, but he kept his worries to himself. She quietly observed him as he double-checked everything. The corner of his mouth turned up in an amused smile.

"You can talk, you know," he said, eyes never leaving the console he was busy tapping.

"Oh! Sorry. I wasn't sure," she said with a small chuckle.

"I won't be distracted. My brain is capable of many things at all times," he said, unable to keep from bragging.

"No, really?" she said, words dripping with sarcasm. "And I thought you chose the name 'Megamind' because you favor the subtle."

He shrugged. "Megatron was already taken," and unable to hide a grin added, "But I seem to recall you like my name."

She struggled not to smile and cleared her throat. "So...how much time do you think we have before he finds us? It's not like he'll wait to meet you in one hour just because you asked."

The brief moment of peace ended. "No, he won't," he agreed. "It could be seconds depending on where he is," he said, face grim.

Roxanne shuddered and glanced to the ceiling above, as though expecting the supervillain to come crashing through. "What can I do to help?"

Done with his work, Megamind got up, pulled yet another D-gun from one of the compartments and pushed it into her hand. "You have to leave. Take this and dehydrate anything that gets in your way."

He tried to herd her out, but she planted her feet. "Absolutely not. We're in this together, Megamind."

"Yes, we are," he agreed, placing hands on her shoulders. "We will _always_ be together no matter where we are, but right now, you can't come with me."

"You need back up," she insisted.

"Roxanne, your place is here and Seven will protect you. His large size enables him to carry twice his body weight. He can whisk you away to safety if need be. Besides, the most dangerous place will be with me."

"I can't just stand by and do nothing while you're up there alone! That isn't fair!"

"You won't be doing nothing," he said, getting an idea. "You have to find Bernard."

She huffed, blowing her bangs back. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"It would be a place Mayhem considers impenetrable," Megamind mused. "Do you know where his hideout is?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yes! The old prison."

"Then he's probably keeping Bernard there. I'll distract Mayhem long enough that you shouldn't have any problems. Take Minion with you. He'll help you search for...your husband."

"Megamind..."

The look on her face was bittersweet. Roxanne was clearly torn on the inside. She wanted to stay with him, but Bernard needed her more. "You might get into trouble," she said, though her words had less fight than before.

"Probably," he said unconcernedly, "But I'm pretty good at troublemaking too. I'll be fine." He snapped his fingers. "That reminds me."

Megamind reached into the same compartment and pulled out a spare projection watch. Once again, Minion had planned ahead, packing triple of what they usually carried.

"This is a projection watch," he said, strapping it on her wrist. "Twist this dial and a hologram will disguise your appearance or make you invisible."

"Won't his x-ray vision see through it?"

"Oddly, no. The meathead can't see through these. I never could find out why since he wouldn't let me dissect his eyeballs to discover their secrets."

"Dissect his eyeballs?" she said with a wry smile.

"Supervillains—current and former—are also scientists. Taking stuff apart is fun. Now!" He clapped his hands together. "I have a date with what's-his-name and really can't afford to be late."

Roxanne hugged him tightly. "Please, please be careful! We've got to get you home and back to me—I mean _her_."

Megamind returned the hug with vigor, savoring how good she felt. "I will."

"Never make a Ritchi wait," she scolded gently. "The longer it takes, the madder we get." She tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a strangled cough.

He pulled back to look at her. "I already know."

It was more difficult than ever not to close the gap between them for just one more kiss. But he could probably get away with a little peck on her cheek. His lips lingered against the warm skin. Would he ever get to do that again?

"Roxanne, if I don't make it back—" he tried to say.

"Megamind, don't—"

"No, listen to me! If I don't, you and Bernard must leave Metrocity, but you won't be able to come back. Mayhem must never find you. Promise me!"

She sighed, eyes downcast. "All right. I promise we'll leave."

The odds that Mayhem Man wouldn't find them were dismal, but he kept that information to himself. She left a few minutes later. If she'd stayed any longer, he probably would have pulled her into the time machine and said the heck with everything else and leave the world to its own devices. Every man for himself and every Roxanne for him. That certainly would have been what the old Megamind would have done—boy did he miss that guy sometimes!

But he wasn't a reformed supervillain for nothing. He did the right thing and put her safely in her news van, then turned around to go fetch Minion. When he reached the lab, he was surprised to see it empty and Minion nowhere in sight.

Where was that infernal fish?

* * *

><p>Minion was perplexed by the doorway into Sir's room. He'd never needed to use a door before since he'd lived most of his life in a giant aquarium. The retinal scanner didn't penetrate the glass and denied him access twice. He pressed his eye against the tank with as much force as he was capable of and the access light switched from red to green. Pleased with his small triumph, Minion walked through the open door.<p>

It was startling to see his tank empty and himself standing outside of it. Having such newfound freedom of mobility was amazing and he knew that he could never go back to the confined space. It had served him well for many years, but he didn't need it anymore. Oh, he could go to the kitchen and cook! Just like the pros! There were so many adventures around the corner. He could go anywhere in the world with his Sir.

He expected to see his best friend in front of the TV blasting away the bad guys in a video game or have his nose buried in a comic book. Sir did neither of these things. He rushed around the room, grabbing books from shelves, taking clothes from the closet, and tossing everything from a first edition comic book collectible to a package of unopened socks into a suitcase.

For someone so persnickety about organization, Sir's packing job could have been done better by a three-year-old. He didn't seem to care that his clothes and toys were getting crushed by piles of stuff. He hurried back and forth across the carpet, continuing to pack like a crazy person. Even stranger was the binky sticking out of his mouth.

"Sir?" Minion questioned. "Why are you packing?"

"We're getting out of here," he said, slamming the suitcase lid shut. It was so full that he had to sit on it to pull the zipper.

"We?" he repeated, confused. "Oh, yes, well I suppose we should find a place to hide until the other Sir completes his mission, but there's no need to pack. I have full confidence in the other Sir and we'll be back home in no time."

"No, you don't understand." He rushed Minion and with a look of desperation on his face, gripped his metal arms, "Me and you are going somewhere that doesn't have a Mayhem Man, and more importantly, doesn't have a Megamind."

Sir's crazed eyes set off the alarms in Minion's head. "What are you talking about?"

"I have a plan! We're going to leave this terrible place and head for Metrocity—the one Megamind came from. I can pretend I'm him. We look exactly alike. I'll just say that I shaved off that ridiculous goatee. The populace won't know the difference. Roxanne will be the hardest to convince. But I'm sure I could do it. Of course I can. I'm a genius! And I just have to act like a jerk all the time. The public will love me, and so will Roxanne. She'll be my wife, Minion. Can you imagine? Metrocity will be mine. Roxanne Ritchi will be mine!"

Minion stared at his best friend in horror, words failing him. He pulled Sir's hands off and stepped back, a chill rolling across his scales.

"Minion, what's wrong? You look pale."

"Sir..." he whispered. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that and you and I are going to go somewhere safe. Megamind is going to save the city. Then we'll come back home to Scott Manor and live happily ever after."

Sir snorted. "There is no happy ever after here! That's why we have to switch places!" He smiled maniacally. "It's foolproof!"

Minion swam in a circle in his tank. "Switch places? Sir, that's crazy!"

"Stop that incessant swimming! You're making me dizzy!"

He got as close to the tank as possible, glaring at Sir with his fins pressed against the glass. "You really think a harebrained scheme like that would work? The only similarity between the two of you is the arrogant narcissism. Roxanne would know the difference instantly. The other me would know it too."

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Sir actually stomped a foot in protest.

Minion stubbornly stuck out his jaw. "I'm your best friend and it's my job to tell you when you're being stupid." His eyes narrowed. "...and you're doing a great job of that right now."

Sir yanked his suitcase off the bed. It dropped like dead weight to the floor, nearly taking him with it, but he managed to haul it over to the door with both hands. "I'm going to ignore your rude behavior right now, but I expect a full apology later."

Minion folded his arms and made that ape body look as big as possible. Sir pulled on him, trying to make him move away from the door, but Minion wouldn't budge.

"Sir, I don't understand! Why do you want to leave? Megamind's going to fix everything."

"With a three percent chance of survival? I don't think so!" he cried. "And he put _my_ head on the chopping block. When he fails, the mobs will come after me and cut up the tiny pieces left over by Mayhem Man!"

"Mayhem doesn't even know there are two of you," he argued.

"That's beside the point, Minion!" he yelled, glaring. "You're my best friend and that means you should be on _my_ side! Not Megamind's!"

"I am on your side, Sir," he said calmly, "but this is a huge mistake...and it's not fair to him. He's just trying to go home."

"Don't talk to me about what's fair," he growled. "This place is the result of Megamind's meddling and incompetence. Was it fair for me to grow up a loser?"

Minion could almost feel his little heart breaking. "Sir, you're not a loser. You have me and your parents."

He scoffed, "Leave my parents out of this. They don't even remember my name half the time."

Minion couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're just going to leave me?"

Sir blinked, ceasing his struggles to pull Minion away from the door. "Leave you? No, you're coming with me...a-aren't you?"

Minion's lip trembled. "No, I'm not leaving. Megamind may need my help and even though I wouldn't stand a chance against Mayhem, I won't abandon my other Sir."

"But you'll abandon me?" he countered.

Of all the times for Sir to find his backbone!

"I'm not the one who's leaving, Sir. You're the one that's abandoning all of us, leaving us to the mercy of a crazy supervillain. Roxanne—Metro City—me...don't you care what happens to us?" Minion grasped for something else to get his friend's attention. And then it hit him. "What about Janeen?"

"Janeen?" he repeated, frowning. "What about her?"

"You'd leave her too? To die with the rest of us?"

The blank look in Sir's eyes suggested he still didn't get it. "She's my employee."

Minion spoke without thinking. "...and she's in love with you, Sir. You never noticed, did you?" He closed his eyes in shame for revealing her secret. She was going to make fish sticks out of him when she found out.

For a nerve-wracking moment, Minion thought he'd struck a chord. Sir stared into space, and it looked as though his best friend was doing some very fast thinking. But Sir rapidly blinked, as though coming back to reality.

"You—you must be mistaken, Minion. I don't—or I never..." He pressed his fingers to his temples. "No! I can't afford to waste more time. Either come with me or step aside."

Minion's heart sank. "I'm not going with you and I won't step aside."

"Fine! Then you leave me no choice!"

Sir was too fast. He caught Minion off guard and pressed the power button on the front of the suit. Minion felt the connection to it slowly drift away. He couldn't lift the arms, move the legs, or keep the suit vertical. The metal body sank to the floor, aided by Sir, who kept the tank from tipping over. He leaned Minion against the wall and quietly took the suitcase by the handle.

"Good-bye, Minion."

The little fish stared morosely at his friend. "Good-bye, Sir." As his best friend opened the door, Minion added, "Please take care of yourself."

Sir froze and Minion waited, hoping. But Sir straightened and walked out. He didn't look back.

* * *

><p>As he hurried down the stairs to get Minion, Megamind stopped short when he saw Wayne coming out of the time machine. His hand was behind his back.<p>

"What are you doing?" he asked, glancing suspiciously at Wayne's hidden arm. "Where's Minion? Both of you need to get out of here and go with Roxanne immediately."

Wayne thrust his hand out suddenly and Megamind looked at it in quiet shock. It was a D-gun—one that was still functional...and aimed at his chest.

He narrowed his eyes to slits saying, "Care to explain yourself, Wayne?"

"I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say, I'm going and you're staying."

Though Megamind remained cool as a cucumber on the outside, his insides were reeling with astonishment. In the back of his mind, he kicked himself. He should have seen this coming, but he hadn't. Wayne didn't seem the type to pull a fast one, given his general wimpyness. Who knew he had it in him?

"You picked a really bad time to play the turncoat. Mayhem is probably on his way to fry your brain from the inside out."

"Doesn't matter. There's still plenty of time to dehydrate you and take my time machine out for a test drive."

"And go where?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Metrocity. _Your _Metrocity. I saw the temporal coordinates in your time machine. All I have to do is plug them into the DeLorean and I'm gone."

"Where's Minion?" he visually searched the lab, but didn't see the fish anywhere.

Wayne's eyes slid guiltily to his bedroom door. "He chose not to come."

"Uh huh," he said. "And just what exactly do you plan to do once you get there after you abandon us all in a blazing trail of cowardice?"

Wayne's eye twitched. "I'm going to take your place as hero of Metrocity."

Megamind couldn't help it. Laughter bubbled out of his chest. "_You? A hero? _I didn't know you were a comedian, Wayne."

"Stop laughing!" he yelled. "You think you're so smart, well I'm a genius too pal and you're not the only one capable of coming up with a master plan!"

"Of course, because the definition of master is big, fat coward," Megamind said, saturating every word with scorn.

Wayne ignored that comment. "I'm going to take your job and do it better. For once in my life, something will be easy."

Megamind knew exactly what was happening. Wayne was stalling because he wasn't as sure of his plan as he pretended to be. He kept casting a guilty eye towards his bedroom where Megamind suspected an unconscious Minion lay. If he could keep him talking long enough, he could disarm him.

"You think my life in Metrocity is easy? I had to work very hard just to get them to trust me after I terrorized them for years. People still fear me. It isn't easy for Roxanne either. Friends and colleagues shunned her for marrying me. They accused her of helping me take over the city, of brainwashing the mayor—and many other terrible things."

He took the smallest of steps closer to Wayne, who didn't seem to notice.

"Well, I was never a supervillain remember?"

"Right, and there's nothing supervillainous about what you're doing right now."

Wayne's eye twisted faster. "I can change their minds. They'll accept me."

He shrugged, managing another step. "Perhaps, but there's one person you'll never be able to fool, and that is Roxanne. So if you think you can just waltz into my world and expect her to fall for a poorly designed copy of me, then you are seriously delusional."

Wayne spun the dial on the D-gun and Megamind inched closer. "Delusional there is better than dead here."

"Suit yourself."

Megamind made a grab for the gun. He latched onto Wayne's wrist and forced the bony hand up. A bolt of blue shot from the barrel. It narrowly missed his head. The beam struck a bookshelf, shrinking it into a cube. Wayne squeezed the trigger again. Successive blasts were unleashed across the room. Lab tables, equipment, and everything in between was instantly dehydrated.

Due to Megamind's rigorous workout routine—at Minion's insistence, he easily overpowered Wayne. The latter was soft and squishy as a sponge. It was easy to toss him over his head. Wayne hit the floor with a painful thud. He jerked the D-gun free of Wayne's grasp.

"Of all the stupid ideas. You almost ruined everything, Wayne!"

But whatever response Wayne could have made was interrupted. Something shook the house. The basement vibrated for a second and then it was gone. Megamind's gaze snapped to the ceiling and he waited, holding his breath. He expected to see Mayhem crash through the floor, break apart the walls, but...

Nothing else happened.

* * *

><p>Roxanne impatiently drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and peered again through the passenger side window to see if Minion was coming down the front steps of the house. But there was no sign of that fish anywhere. It was certainly taking him a long time. The longer they waited the less time Bernard had.<p>

She pushed that thought behind a padlocked door. There was no way she was giving in to the worry gnawing at her heart. Bernard was still alive. She and Minion were going to the prison to rescue him. And Megamind was going to save everyone. Metro City would belong to the people once again.

It was just as terrible thinking about Megamind as it was Bernard. Both of them might die—that was the reality of the situation. The thoughts crept back through the locked door in her mind. She wanted to go after Bernard...but she also wanted to stay with Megamind. Her heart was being pulled in two directions.

Her fingers brushed against her cheek, exactly where his lips had been. She could still feel them, warm and inviting. That bond he shared with the other Roxanne was certainly powerful. Would it fade after he was gone? If it did, she'd be sorry to see it go. At the same time, it would be better to never have those feelings again. Just being in the same room as Megamind was not conducive to her concentration.

"Come on, Minion," she said, glaring at the empty steps.

Roxanne could only stand another five minutes of waiting before she threw off her seatbelt and marched right back towards Scott Manor to find that fish. Just as she reached the porch, something bowled into her from behind and knocked her down. Every window in the house exploded as a terrible scream rippled through the air. She covered her head and ducked as glass pelted her body. The scream clawed through her ear canal, making her eardrums feel like shredded meat.

She waited, balled up in the fetal position by the front door, hands over her ears to wait it out, but there wasn't another scream. Roxanne was stunned and afraid because the only sound she could hear was ringing. There was nothing else she could do except wait and try to not freak out. After awhile the ringing stopped, but she still couldn't hear. To test it, she snapped her fingers by her ear and winced.

She'd definitely heard that. There was nothing wrong with her, but something was very wrong with everything else. The air was chillingly silent. Even the birds had stopped chirping. There was no wind or honking horns. The absence of noise was terrifying because she understood exactly what it meant.

Mayhem Man had seen the interview and unleashed a roar of pure rage. He was coming. They were out of time.

* * *

><p>There were only seconds left to get into that time machine and head for space. Any minute now Mayhem was about to drop on the house. Megamind was so focused on his mission that he forgot something he considered unworthy of remembrance. He didn't see the bony blue fist until it hit the side of his head. It was enough to temporarily unbalance him and he was forced to take a step back to keep from falling.<p>

Wayne jumped on the opportunity and yanked the D-Gun out of his hand. Megamind froze. The barrel was pressed against his temple.

"I'm sorry, but you gave me no choice," Wayne said, shaking all over.

"Wayne, stop and think about what you're doing," Megamind said. "This won't make things any easier."

"Ofcourse it will. I'm a genius. I'll figure it all out."

"Geniuses make mistakes too," he said solemnly.

It was the last thing he said as the world around him disappeared in a blue haze.

* * *

><p>Mayhem Man burst through the rubble pile, knocking giant boulders out of his way. Dust covered him head to toe. The silver M emblazoned across his chest was a tattered mess. Rips in his jeans exposed the skin underneath. His oiled hair was in disarray, falling into his eyes. But there wasn't a scratch anywhere on his body. He wasn't broken. He wasn't bleeding. He was impervious to everything.<p>

"_EVERYTHING!" _he screamed at the sky.

He stared at what was left of his hideout—nothing but broken concrete and twisted metal. Everything was gone. Bodies of his henchman—weaklings he'd never cared to know—were strewn about the collapsed building. Death was all around him. Some were still alive, but he ignored the cries for help.

Terrific. Now he would have to find a new hideout and new thugs.

And all because of...

"Wayne Scott," he snarled, teeth bared like a furious beast.

He rocketed into the air, leaving a trail of icy vapor in his wake and aimed for the heart of Scott Manor. Once he was done cracking open that inflated blue skull, he was going to tip Metro City on its head and drown them all in the ocean.

That would teach them to mess with a god.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm not exactly happy with this chapter. It sounds all wrong, but that might be because I read it about a hundred times and after awhile the words just kind of blur. The more I read it, the more it sounded like I don't know how to write diddly squat. Anyway, I'm going to try and finish this as fast as I can because I'm starting 2 summer courses very soon and if you've ever taken online classes before, then you'll know how much homework I'm gonna have. **

**Wayne is just downright despicable in this chapter isn't he? Will he go through with it? Is everyone doomed? Mwuh ha ha...Lol, please hang on with me to the end because I promise that I will make everything right again. I'm a big believer in happy endings for everyone involved!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks—not me! But this particular story and idea are mine.**

**Chapter 19: It's Mega-Mayhem**

**A/N: Sooooooooooooo sorry for the delay in updates, but I'm set to graduate on December 14 (TOMORROW) and this semester has just been so busy. I've had so much homework that there wasn't time for the fun stuff. I actually hate this chapter. I've looked at it about 100 times in the past couple of months, trying to make it sound better. I'm not satisfied with it, but I didn't want to keep making all of you wait for an update. I hope the next chapter will be better. I didn't even proofread it, that's how tired of Chapter 19 I am!**

**Again, thanks for reading and for the words of encouragement. I love that you guys like my story. It's so awesome! **

It was difficult to put one foot in front of the other, especially when all Wayne could think about was his best friend. If Minion had just yelled at him or called him names, then it would have been much easier to walk away. But that's not what he'd done. The quiet disappointment in those big amber eyes did worse damage than any yelling ever could have, leaving his insides quivering.

Wayne opened the drawer of his lab table and tossed the dehydrated cube into the pile of others. Each was identical in shape and color. After a second glance he wasn't even sure which one was Megamind. They cast an ethereal blue sheen that contrasted strangely with the stark gray of the lab table. It was an uncomfortable coincidence that the dehydration process turned everyone blue—just like Megamind—just like himself.

They all seemed to yell different accusatory things. _Traitor! Fool! Coward!_ The voice was horribly similar to Megamind's holier-than-thou pitch. Without realizing it, he'd grasped the binky, rubbing the warm glass between his fingers. The gentle hum of perpetual energy against his skin had always been the best remedy to calm him down.

It didn't work this time.

"Does-doesn't matter," he stuttered, though he gave the cubes another guilty look before slamming the drawer shut. "I didn't have a choice. He created this terrible place. It's only fair I take his place in the other one."

He pulled the keys to the DeLorean out of his pocket and spared a final glance around the basement. It was the usual dwelling for geeks like him. All of his cool toys were down here, things he couldn't take with him. This had been his home ever since he'd started his software business at the age of ten. He'd interviewed Janeen down here too—over the phone of course.

Wayne felt a funny little wormy something slithering around in his stomach when he remembered what Minion had said about Janeen.

"_She's in love with you...you never knew..."_

That made no sense to Wayne.

Janeen had never said anything. If she had, would it have made a difference? As he stared at the shelves full of coffee mugs with the names of cities from all over the world—all souvenirs Janeen had given to Minion—he honestly couldn't formulate an answer. Geniuses always had an explanation. It was unsettling not to instantly prattle off an answer.

Nothing was personal. It was all business. Outside of Minion, and the occasional awkward conversation with his parents, she was the only person he talked to. He'd eventually let her into the sanctuary of his basement, but for business reasons. She was his right hand. Sometimes her presence was necessary for business deals or when they were trying out a new computer prototype.

If he had to admit it though, he'd never once looked at her as anything more than his employee. His perception of people had always been severely limited. The fact that she was a woman hadn't really registered. He couldn't even remember what color her eyes were. She wore glasses—that much he could recall. He searched his memory for something—anything that he could remember about her.

But he was completely blank and it freaked him out. Why couldn't he remember what she looked like? It was like trying to see through fog. The outline of Janeen was there, but he couldn't fill her in. Why? Why hadn't he looked before? _Really _looked? And why was this happening now? Just when he'd made the first gutsy decision of his life?

Well, it all certainly registered now and thinking of Janeen and her glasses—since that was all he could remember—made his stomach ache. So he put her out of his mind, picked up his suitcase, and headed for the lowest level of the house where the DeLorean was parked.

He'd barely taken two steps down the stairs when the walls shook. Wayne glanced up warily. A sound, like distant thunder, echoed softly above his head. There were no storms in the sky. He shuddered, mentally correcting himself. Yes, there _was_ a storm coming. The ceiling shook too, a crack forming in the corner.

Wayne backed into the wall when he heard a booming voice scream his name. He was out of time. Mayhem was already here.

* * *

><p>Mayhem Man smashed onto the long gravel driveway outside the gated entrance of Scott Manor with the force of a small explosion, cracking the ground open like an egg.<p>

"WAYNE _SCOTT_!"

He screamed the last name with a massive gust of super breath, blasting the wrought iron gates off their hinges. Bricks were torn from the entrance gate, scattering chunks of mortar all over the grass. His blue eyes morphed into burning red coals, growing in intensity as he stalked toward the mansion. The lasers burst from his eyes and he whipped his head side to side, cutting down the trees. Flames erupted, engulfing the greenery in their orange claws. The expanse of artistically landscaped green charbroiled as the fire spread from the trees, consuming everything in its path. Birds took to the air in a chirping panic. Squirrels fussed at him and bounded across the ground, scurrying to safety.

Mayhem picked up one of the twisted iron gates.

"Come out come out wherever you are!"

He spun, creating a whirlwind of dust and gravel. Then he flung the gate into the air. The heavy iron sliced through the front of Scott Manor like a giant metal Frisbee. It impaled the lawn behind the home, buried half-way in the earth. The long-standing mansion that had housed generations of Scotts crumbled in the center as though an implosion had taken place. The support pillars that framed the opulent front door had been crafted from the finest, imported marble. In less than a heartbeat, they buckled, bringing the roof with them.

Mayhem waited, but no one came running out. There was no screaming from inside.

His super gaze penetrated the brick of the historical home, but it was empty. The rest of the property too, was oddly silent. That blue freak must have been expecting a house call. Clearly, this guy was better than he'd thought. But that didn't matter. He'd hunt down every last Scott until the entire family was wiped out..._buried_.

"WAYNE SCOTT!" He bellowed again, but there still wasn't an answer. "Well, the polite thing would be to knock."

He zipped over to the forest and yanked a twenty foot oak out of the ground. As he hoisted the trunk onto his shoulder and rose into the air, leaves and soil fell like rain to the ground. With a deep growl, he swung the trunk into Scott Manor like a giant bat. The force of the blow resounded like thunder. Dislodged bricks sailed through the air.

The tree split down the middle from the force of his strikes. He tossed it aside and jerked another from the earth. With an entire forest behind him, he could do this all day.

"WHERE! ARE! YOU?!" he yelled, punctuating each word with a devastating swing of the tree.

The persistent pummeling was the breaking point and the house groaned, as though unable to take anymore, collapsing into a shapeless heap brick by brick. A landslide of shingles, stone, and glass poured across the grass. Clouds of thick dust coated the air. Electrical wiring was ripped in two. A shower of sparks landed on the grass and caught on fire. The flames quickly spread to the broken beams. In seconds, the manor house was engulfed. Somewhere a pipe burst, sending a fountain of water towards the sky, but it wasn't enough to douse the flames. The old wooden framework was quickly consumed.

Normally, Mayhem's temper tantrums were fun because destruction always brought out the worst in him. But not today. As entertaining as causing chaos usually was, this was something entirely different. It wasn't about payback. Revenge wasn't his game.

Mayhem was here to _punish_.

He tossed the broken tree onto the top of the burning pyre. Sparks blew into the air, hitting his face. The fire raged in front of him, but it paled in comparison to the fury ready to burst out of his body. His hands shook in anticipation of wringing Wayne Scott's scrawny neck. His lips curled into a feral snarl above gleaming, bared teeth. The lasers in his eyes sizzled.

Watching the dense smoke billow into the air was satisfying, but it wasn't enough. That little interview stunt with Roxanne had earned them both a very painful lesson. Wayne would die last. Slowly...painfully, and in front of the entire world. After all, someone had to set an example for the populous.

Roxanne's news van was still parked in front so she had to be here somewhere. The nosey reporter had just considerably shortened her own life with that brazen interview. Too bad. But he could still have some tortuous fun with her before snapping her neck.

Despite the fury, however, Mayhem was intrigued. For years, Wayne Scott had quietly stood by and never once raised a finger to do _anything_ for this burg. He'd just sat holed up in his fancy mansion counting his mountain of money. He almost couldn't wait to see what that geek was planning to do next.

Until...

He'd been so bent on tearing off Wayne Scott's head that he'd missed the rapid_ thumping_. Two distinctive heartbeats were close by. His gaze delved deeper under the crushed piles of the house. Someone was running down stairs towards the basement. He recognized that womanly outline.

_Roxanne._

But then he found what he truly wanted. Wayne Scott's giant head was in a level deeper than that of the basement—trying to escape in a car.

Mayhem rose into the air, looked straight down, and fired lasers into the middle of the burning mansion. The power of the blast blew the rest of the house apart. Jagged boulders flew through the air as though weightless. Steel supports melted into glowing blobs of gray. His lasers split what was left of the house in two like a grotesque surgical procedure and Wayne Scott was about to be his first patient.

* * *

><p>Roxanne rushed down the stairs that led to the basement, heart pounding all the way down. Her ears weren't much better, though the ringing sound had lessened considerably since Mayhem's scream of rage. Seven was in tow behind her. His feral hissing just over her shoulder was a comforting sound to her now. Any minute Mayhem Man was going to the tear off the roof and pound them all into the ground. But she couldn't stop running, not until she found Bernard. If there was a chance that he was still alive, she had to try and needed Minion's help to find him. Hopefully, Megamind had already gotten the time machine in the air. Maybe he'd even started the journey to the black hole with Mayhem hot on his heels.<p>

But like a lot of things in Metro City as of late, it was too good to be true.

Under her feet, a deep rumble shook the stairs, but then stopped as quickly as it started. With a fearful glance Roxanne looked up, bracing a hand against the wall of the stairwell. Another jolt shook the house. Again. And again. Something with the force of a wrecking ball was striking Scott Manor. It wasn't hard to guess the cause.

"Mayhem Man," she whispered. Seven snarled beside her ear, curling his metal arms around her body like a razor shield.

She jumped when the recessed lights went out, but it lasted only a second. The emergency lights lining the ceiling popped on above her head. At least she wouldn't trip and fall down the stairs in the dark. With Seven at her flank, she felt better.

"Come on, Seven," she murmured. "We have to keep going."

It was probably safe to say that all the rumbling and pounding meant that the Scott family mansion was nothing but a pile of broken stones. Rather than stare at the roof and wait for it to fall on her head, she hurried on even though there wasn't anywhere left to run. Hiding was impossible. His x-ray vision had probably already spotted her location.

She burst through the basement door and plowed into a skinny, blue body.

"Megamind! We have to—wait..._Wayne_?"

It was Wayne, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were glued to the ceiling. Roxanne glanced around the lab, but didn't see Megamind anywhere. Before she could ask, Wayne spoke.

"Is that who I think it is?"

"I think Mayhem Man is renovating," she said dryly, but regretted the comment as soon as it left her mouth. A pained look passed across his face. Wayne's home was gone...obliterated.

"It's too late," he whispered.

"No, Wayne!" she said, trying to think optimistically. She gripped his arms. "We're going to get out of this."

"Just how exactly do we do that with a god-like being bent on crushing our bones?"

Before she could retort, a tremor—more violent than before—rattled the basement. Both lost their balance, falling onto the concrete floor. The inside of the lab shook as though an earthquake had started under their feet. Glass beakers toppled off lab tables. Minion's souvenir mugs rattled against the glass door holding them captive in their bookshelf. The water in his old tank sloshed around violently. With little effort, the time machine lurched forward and rolled, slamming into the opposite wall.

"Megamind!" Roxanne screamed, horror-struck. She ran forward, wobbling around like a top as the basement shook. With a violent yank she pulled the door open, afraid that there would be a twisted body inside, but it was empty. "Where's Megamind?" she shouted at Wayne.

He looked away..._guiltily_, she thought. She ignored the chaotic rumblings around them and grabbed Wayne by the scruff of his shirt collar. "Where. Is. MEGAMIND?"

Wayne pointed, unable to look her in the eye. "Look in that drawer."

She ran towards the lab table and pulled it open, a horrified gasp escaping her mouth. "You _dehydrated_ him!" she shrieked, rounding on Wayne with fists raised. "How could you—why would you—?"

"It wasn't my fault!" he yelled, backing away from her wrath, hands in front of him to ward off any potential punches.

"Are you saying he did that to himself?" she yelled, pointing to the glowing cubes.

"No-no...but, look we really don't have time for this!" he cried.

Roxanne picked up a cube. "Which one is he?"

"How should I know?" he said defensively, dashing to the side to avoid a microscope aiming for his toes.

"They all look alike," she whispered. "We'll just have to take them all and rehydrate them one by one."

She stuffed two in the pocket of her jeans. "Here, take some," she said, shoving a handful at Wayne despite his protests.

"But—"

"Just take them!" she snapped.

Barely a second passed when the basement stopped shaking. The tremors had ceased. That couldn't be good. Roxanne held her breath, afraid to move. It wasn't over yet. Mayhem wouldn't just give up and fly away. The quiet lasted longer than it should have, setting her nerves on edge. Mayhem was still out there...but what was he _doing_?

"Roxanne, what is he doing?" Wayne whispered, voicing her thought.

She shrugged helplessly, cradling a little cube to her chest. "I don't know."

"You think he's gone?"

"That would be too easy," she said, shaking her head.

...and it was.

Had they not already been on edge, they would barely have felt the sudden onset of vibrations under their feet. They were faint, as though they traveled from deep underground. One of Wayne's collectibles, round in shape, fell off a shelf and rolled across the floor. The little ball broke in half when it hit the wall. She and Wayne shared a tense look.

"Wayne," she whispered, afraid to raise her voice. "Can you feel that too?"

He nodded, hands shaking. Then he tapped her on the shoulder.

"What?" she said, placing a hand on Seven's domed head for reassurance.

He pointed, green eyes bulging with fear, at the basement door.

A red light blazed at the bottom of the doorframe. She squinted, unable to look it any longer. They watched in shock as the metal door burned hotter and hotter until it melted. As one, they backed away from the intense heat. Dual lasers burst through where the door used to be and Wayne shoved Roxanne away just in time. She'd almost taken a direct hit. A tiny curl of smoke wafted at her side. The lasers had been close enough to singe her sleeve. Seven hovered in front of her, all of his legs spread out like a razor-shaped fan. He forced her back, away from the lasers.

Wayne, on the other hand, made a beeline for his bedroom.

"Where are you going!" she shouted, closing her eyes to shield them from the severe brightness of Mayhem's lasers.

"To get Minion!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Seven's timing was impeccable. One of the brain bot's less razory appendages quickly circled her waist just as a long crack formed in the floor between her feet. He pulled her backward until they were against the wall. The basement rippled and with a loud snap, the floor split in two. Roxanne screamed when it gave way, but Seven's grip was tight. She watched in horrified awe as the room collapsed around her and disappeared into the black pit created by Mayhem's lasers.

Debris from the house above poured into the hole like a waterfall as Scott Manor crumbled to pieces. Flaming pieces of wood, antique furniture, portraits of unknown Scott ancestors, glass knickknacks, and everything in between disappeared into the darkness. The time machine dropped like a dead weight, swallowed by the darkness. The massive tank that Minion had been swimming through mere hours ago exploded sending the water cascading down into the hole. Tiny pieces of glass stung her cheeks.

She kept her head covered, but looked up when Seven made a few clicking noises. Her little brain bot was full of surprises. Two of his metal arms transformed into identical guns. Rapid bursts of blue light fired at every piece of debris aiming for Roxanne, vaporizing them instantly. Megamind had said he was built for security after all.

Over the noise of the crumbling foundations, she heard Mayhem's cruel laughter. Clearly he was enjoying her fear. The lasers moved in her direction. Seven twisted sharply, slinging her around. It wasn't very comfortable to be hanging over a gaping hole by his thin metal arm, but she wasn't about to complain. The lasers gave chase again, causing Seven to zip in every direction just to keep Roxanne away from them.

Seven did an impressive somersault to avoid the red beams aiming for his mommy, but she'd forgotten about the dehydrated cube still clenched in fist until all the slinging around jarred it loose. It bounced around her fingers in slow motion—at least that's how it felt. For a second it stopped. One of the points balanced precariously on her fingertip. She tried to close her hand around it, but Seven was forced to move again as the lasers inched deathly close. Roxanne watched helplessly as the cube hung in midair for a hair's breadth before tumbling out of her hand and into the red hot laser beam.

"MEGAMIND!" she screamed, but there were still two cubes in her pocket and Wayne had some too. There was a chance that cube hadn't been Megamind...

Whoever it had been—Megamind or not—she couldn't help them now. Mayhem's lasers cut deep into the earth, and she realized with dread as the widening gap stared her in the face, that he'd created a sinkhole. This wasn't just simple payback. Mayhem meant to obliterate everything that Wayne held dear. He was going to wipe the Scotts off the face of the Earth as though they never existed.

"WAYNE!" she cried frantically, searching for any sign of blue in the thick clouds of dust.

She couldn't see Wayne anymore. Mayhem's lasers distorted her view. She yelled again.

"WAYNE!"

He didn't answer.

* * *

><p>Minion swam in a frantic circle, watching in fear as the contents of the shelves in Sir's bedroom toppled to the floor and broke into hundreds of pieces. The entire room shook from what felt like an earthquake. What was going on outside? Was it really an earthquake?<p>

...or was it something—_someone_—else?

He was helpless without the power of the ape suit. Even if he could get out of the tank, there was nowhere to go. He'd flop around on the floor until he drowned. Either way, his goose was about to be fish fried. In his frenzied circling, he failed to notice a knob at the bottom until his tail fin accidentally brushed it. With a curious eye, he examined the knob. It might be a way to turn the suit back on...or it might open a drain to remove the water.

Either way, he'd still end up a hush puppy if he did nothing.

He shrugged, "Eh, why not?"

The ape suit shuddered to life as Minion pressed the knob, smiling as he felt the electric connection reestablish itself with a small tingle. He looked at the knob curiously and saw tiny writing next to it that read, "Minion's failsafe," and there was a little smiley face under the writing.

"I wonder if that's the other me's writing," he said, smiling at the cheerful script. He didn't know. He didn't know how to write—not yet anyway!

He got to his feet and took a couple of test steps to ensure that the connection was properly working. Satisfied that everything was hunky dory, he headed for the door. Minion was a positive fish by nature and was convinced that he could stop Sir from making such a big mistake. He was still disappointed in Sir for deactivating him, but that didn't matter anymore. It was his job to look after Sir, and that trumped everything else.

When he opened the door, Sir plowed right into his metal chest. "Minion! Are you all right?"

"Fit as a fiddle!" He smiled warmly. "You came back!" His smile faded to a look of shock when he noticed just how frantic his best friend appeared. Those big green eyes practically bulged out of Sir's blue face. "What's going on?"

"Mayhem is destroying the house!"

"Is that what all the commotion is? What's Mayhem doing?"

"No time, Minion! We have to get out of here now!"

Sir grabbed Minion's arm and dragged him over to the hidden door underneath a rug. It led to the underground garage where the DeLorean was kept. They descended the stairs at a rush. The lights in the subbasement came on automatically as they entered. Sir pulled the keys out of his pocket and jerked the door open.

Before Minion could say anything, Sir shoved him into the driver's seat, neatly secured the seatbelt around his front, and put the keys in his hand. "Oh! I almost forgot about this too," he said, pulling out the binky necklace from under his shirt. He yanked the chain over his head and thrust it in Minion's face. "Take this and plug it in first. It's the only way to power the time machine."

Minion gave the steering wheel a wary look. "You want me to drive?" he blurted. "I don't know how!"

"Nonsense! You watch TV all the time. Just do what they do."

Minion stared apprehensively at the dashboard, the gear shift, and all the other controls that...did whatever it was they did. When he looked back, Sir was halfway across the room, pressing the garage door button that opened into the forest. He inserted the binky first, as Sir had instructed and then the keys next. The DeLorean had never been driven. Had it been just an ordinary car it probably wouldn't have started at all, but with the enormous power of the Binky behind it, the car started fired up like it was brand new.

Sir came back and leaned in through the open door. "Wait about one minute and if I don't come back, drive up the tunnel if it's not blocked. If you can't, it has a pilot feature and you can fly out. It's the big, red button by the wheel."

"I'm not leaving without you, Sir," he said firmly.

"I have to go back for Roxanne."

"But—"

"Don't argue, Minion! I'll be fine."

Minion heard the confidence in Sir's voice, but it sounded pretty shaky. Sir's hand was trembling a little too much.

"How'd you turn your suit back on?"

"I found a failsafe."

"Oh..." Sir's mouth flapped up and down like he was trying to say something else, but couldn't decide on what.

Minion patted his shoulder. "You should go, Sir, and I promise I'll—"

"I'm so sorry, Minion!" he said, eyes lowering shamefully. "I should never have done that to you or try to leave or dehydrate Megamind. It was cowardly and wrong and despicable!"

"Sir, it's okay. All is forgiven," he said with a smile.

"But what I did was awful...how could you forgive me, Minion?"

He shrugged. "You're my Sir," he said, because that was good enough. "And I love you."

Sir smiled—a real honest-to-goodness smile. "Thanks, Minion, and thanks for being my best friend." He didn't say 'I love you' back, but that was okay. Sir had never been the vocally affectionate type.

"Does...is...?"

He anticipated Sir's question. "Yes, Janeen really is in love with you," he said, enjoying the bemused look on his best friend's face.

Sir smiled again, but it faded fast when the ceiling and walls fractured. "I'll be back if I can, Minion. Hurry and be careful!"

Minion waited five minutes as opposed to the one Sir had instructed him to wait. Sir didn't come back and a knot of worry formed in his stomach. When the shaking of the house grew worse, the little fish knew he couldn't wait any longer. Minion put both hands firmly at the 10 and 2 positions on the wheel and drove through the tunnel.

The DeLorean was a stick shift and he alternated between pressing the clutch and the brake. The constant back and forward motion made the tires squeal. He didn't fare much better as his ape suit slammed against the seat. The water sloshed him around in a circle, making him dizzy. He eventually, sorta, got the hang of it.

Mercifully, the tunnel wasn't blocked and he pulled out into the dark forest. Except that it wasn't there anymore. After coming to a stop, he jumped out and gasped. The entire forest that had surrounded Scott Manor for over one hundred years was gone. All that was left were blackened stumps, smoldering in the night. But nothing could prepare him for what he saw when he turned around.

Mayhem Man was high above him in the air, pulverizing the home with his laser beams, laughing like the destruction meant nothing. But where was Sir? Did he get Roxanne out? Were they trapped down in the basement still? He took a step forward, but realized how foolish that would have been. If he tried to help his friends, then Mayhem would crush his suit like a tin can.

The safest course would be to get back in the car and drive away like Sir had instructed. The natural pull to protect Sir fought him tooth and fin. He'd do Sir no good getting caught by Mayhem. With a trembling lip, Minion climbed back into the front seat of the DeLorean and drove off as the only home he'd ever known disappeared beneath the earth.

**This is completely random...but dontcha just love that little black strip of hair on Megamind's chin? It's totally hot. I'm in love with a cartoon character (several actually)...and I shall not be ashamed! LOL. Btw, Janeen vaguely resembles the Janine from the Ghostbusters cartoon (I'm showing my age, lol). She had red hair and glasses. I always liked her character. Totally in love with Egon and he was too much of a guy to notice!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks—not me! But this particular story and idea are mine.**

**Chapter ****20: It****'****s A Mega-Crisis**

**A/N: In my head, the Scott Manor sinkhole looks like that monstrous pit of death in Guatamala City that happened a few years back. Without a doubt, that is the freakiest sinkhole I've ever seen, I guess because it's a straight drop of about 300 feet. That's like some of the skyscrapers in my hometown! If you haven't seen, Google it. Makes me shudder every time!**

Sweat trickled down Roxanne's face. The intensity of the lasers was unbearable. Any minute she could be roasted—or crushed by falling debris from the house. There was still no sign of Wayne—not that she could see anything in the first place. There was too much dust in the air blocking her vision. Decades-old insulation filled up her lungs and she coughed as the microscopic glass shavings irritated her throat.

Yet that wasn't as bad as having Mayhem's maniacal laughter echoing from everywhere. The horrible noise chilled her bones.

"Having fun down there, Roxie?" he roared. "I know I am!"

Roxanne helplessly hung in Seven's grasp, watching as Scott Manor was swallowed by the earth. They were going to be buried alive. The basement was so far underground that it wasn't just the house caving in. An avalanche of earth poured into the sinkhole faster than Seven could fight it. Chunks of ceiling or rocks that fell too close to Roxanne were blasted into bits by his laser cannon. He feverishly swatted at everything else, but it was more than he could handle alone. His body bore extreme abuse, clanging horribly each time something struck the metal. She cringed when his glass dome cracked. Despite the melee, his grip never loosened.

"Seven, get us out of here!" she yelled, keeping her head covered.

He _bow-bowed _in response and put on a burst of speed, ducking and dodging the way up. She dared to peak and saw a sliver of stars in the night sky. Just a little farther. Her stomach dropped when a flash of something big rocketed towards them. _Mayhem_.

"Seven, look out!"

Mayhem's hand stretched outward, fingers curling as if to grab her by the neck. The tips just brushed her collar bone. But Seven pivoted in the air just as a massive chunk of wall came hurtling towards them. It crashed into Mayhem's back before he could react. She watched with a small amount of relief as he was lost under the collapsing earth. That would buy them some time, but probably not much.

Seven zoomed skyward, carrying Roxanne a good distance away to gently set her on the grass. Every inch of her body ached from being whipped around like a ragdoll, but she was alive. She slumped forward, thankful for the little guy, who immediately resumed sentry duty and hovered in front of her like a shield. The brain bot had seen better days. One razor leg was badly bent, but still sharp enough to cut down anything that got too close. She wondered idly if he could register pain, but Seven didn't act like anything hurt.

She patted his cracked dome. "Good boy," she whispered, smiling when he pushed against her hand, like a dog eager for a scratch behind the ears.

"_Mommy: injured_," he said, scanning her with his optic.

Roxanne inspected the injuries. The majority of them appeared to cover her arms and hands, though it was difficult to tell in the dark. Blood oozed from dozens of the small scrapes on her arms, probably because she'd used them to protect her head. When her hand brushed a spot just below her knee, she hissed softly against the pain. Something sharp protruded from the torn skin. It felt like wood, but was no bigger than a toothpick. As far as she could tell, that was the worst of the injuries.

There wasn't time to give herself first aid, especially since she didn't have anything close by to treat her wounds. Finding Wayne, Minion, and hopefully, Megamind was more important. Biting back a gasp, she yanked out the shard and dropped it onto the ground. Her clothes were pretty much a loss. Ripped jeans might have been stylish to some people, but not Roxanne, especially since she'd bled all over hers. Everything she wore would have to go straight to the trashcan. That wasn't surprising considering the entire house and the ground below it had caved in on top of her head. A thin layer of dust coated her from top to bottom. With every move, she left a small cloud of it behind. Hurriedly, she peeled off her shredded jacket and tore a piece off to wrap around her leg, the best she could do at the moment to stop the bleeding.

The brain bot eyeballed her every move. "I'm fine, Seven." To assure him, she got up, suppressing a groan. "We have to find the others." She didn't voice the rest of her thoughts.

_...if they're still alive._

Smoke hung in the air like thick fog. She grabbed her ruined jacket and covered her nose and mouth, but that didn't help much. Fire was ravaging what was left of the trees, sending a massive black cloud skyward. Even if someone down in the hub of the city had seen the smoke, there was no point to send the fire department. The entire landscape looked like charcoal. They probably wouldn't come anyway considering that Mayhem had declared war on the Scott family.

The smoke permeated her sinuses. They burned despite the jacket covering her face and she sneezed several times. Tears leaked from her stinging eyes. Each breath was labor intensive as her starved lungs searched for fresh air that wasn't there. She couldn't stay here much longer, but she had to find her friends first. The brightness of Seven's optic, the only remaining light source since the house was gone, cast an eerie red glow over the smoke swirling around them. The light was unable to penetrate more than a few feet.

Seven latched onto her wrist, stopping her as she limped back toward where she thought the sinkhole to be. "_Directive: protect Mommy_."

"You did protect Mommy. But now we have to find Daddy." She looked all around them. "Seven, do you see Mayhem Man anywhere?"

The brain bot's dome turned one full revolution. "_Negative."_

"Hmm...not sure if that's a good or bad thing," she whispered. "All right. Come on."

Though he followed obediently along, he made strange metallic grinding sounds as though muttering in protest. She patted his dome again, mostly for reassurance. Though her chest ached with worry, she kept a firm check on her emotions. Taking off at a run would have been really stupid since it was too dark to see where the edge of the sinkhole began.

For the fifth time, she cast an anxious glance over her shoulder. Mayhem Man hadn't reappeared, but it was just a matter of time. It was anyone's guess just how long it would be before he dug himself out. Moving quickly was critical.

The smoke cleared long enough that, with a shock, she saw the news van still parked in the same spot. She'd just assumed that it too had met its untimely end at the bottom of the sinkhole, but it was far enough down the driveway that it had been spared from that and the fire. There was a First-Aid kit in there somewhere. Not to mention the dehydration gun in the passenger seat. What would happen if she tried to dehydrate Mayhem? Would it turn him into a little blue cube? Could it be that easy?

If life had taught her anything, it was that _nothing _is easy.

"Seven, look for Wayne and Minion. I'm going to get the dehydration gun from the van."

Automatically, he thrust out that razor leg in front of her face. She gently pushed it down, careful of the sharp edge.

"Mommy will be fine. It's not that far away."

Before she could move, a sudden noise stopped her cold. The sinkhole—it had come from there. As though anticipating her next move, Seven barred her from going any farther. As he faced the direction where the noise had come from, his optic illuminated the area enough that she could just make out the edge of the gaping black hole stretched out like a giant mouth waiting to swallow unsuspecting victims.

"...is—is anyone up there?" said a muffled voice.

"_Wayne!_" she yelled. "Wayne?" She skirted the edge of the sinkhole as much as she dared.

It was quiet for an agonizing minute...until there was another muffled reply from below.

"R-roxanne? "

"Yes, I'm coming! Seven, shine your light down there."

Roxanne almost collapsed with relief when she saw Wayne, looking purple in the red light, clinging to a broken pipe sticking out of the side of the ground. He had to be at least twenty feet below, too far to reach by hand. There was no rope in her news van and all the long branches of the trees were now wasted piles of ashes.

"Hold on, Wayne!" she reassured, marveling that he'd survived while simultaneously wondering how she'd get him out. Next to her, Seven moved and it hit her. "Seven, go get Wayne," she instructed, giving the bot a nudge.

Roxanne watched the brain bot disappear over the edge of the sinkhole. Once the red light from his optic was gone, only the glow from the flames remained. One hand kept the jacket pressed to her face. The other impatiently waved at the lingering smoke. Megamind had said that Seven was capable of lifting vast amounts of weight so he'd probably be back in no time, dangling Wayne from a metal arm.

Except that he didn't come back.

Seconds slipped into minutes as she paced, coughing into the jacket. Worry churned in her stomach the longer she waited and doubt plagued her as she stared at the crater where Scott Manor used to be. Generations of Scotts had lived here. It had withstood harsh winters, raging storms, and the passage of time. In the blink of an eye, all of that had been wiped away. What could she say to the Scott family? Mayhem may have committed the terrible deed, but she still felt responsible. Now the entire city was in jeopardy because she'd had the big idea that standing up to that psychopath would save them all.

Wayne had a death sentence on his head. Bernard had been taken prisoner. Megamind had been dehydrated. She couldn't bear to think of the cube that she'd dropped. What if that had been him? The other two were still bulging in her jeans pocket. Surely, this wasn't the end. It couldn't be. Evil usually struck the hardest blows, but it never won in the end.

The fire wasn't close, but the heat made her sweaty shirt cling to her back. Her hair was plastered to her face like glue. Under the cover of the jacket, her face was sweltering. She moved it away from her mouth for just a second. Beads of sweat pooled around her lips and she rubbed her face against the dust-covered sleeve of her t-shirt. The longer she paced the more her injured leg throbbed.

What was taking so long? Wayne's slight physique couldn't have been too heavy for Seven to carry. She stopped pacing altogether and stared down into the inky black hole, unable to see anything or anyone. Something was wrong. Did Seven have a power failure? Did...did Wayne fall?

"Looking for this?"

Roxanne started so badly that she stumbled, nearly tripping over the edge. She twisted and came face to face with Mayhem Man. The jacket fell from her hands into a heap at her feet. He had Wayne by the neck and Seven in the other hand. Mayhem must have been buried, covered as he was in dirt and debris. Just a few silver sequins were left on the torn M emblazoned on his massive chest. The oil slick that was usually his hair was unkempt, adding to the wild look. Unlike Roxanne and Wayne though, there wasn't a scratch on him.

Wayne futilely struggled to get free, his chest heaving from the effort. The brain bot hissed furiously and slashed at Mayhem until his metal appendages were dented or broken. Mayhem barely gave the brain bot a passing glance of irritation before crushing him. He carelessly tossed Seven to the side like litter, who twitched once before his optic faded to black.

"NO! SEVEN!" Roxanne shrieked, trying to run to her little bot, but was stopped by Mayhem's hand closing around her neck.

She choked as her air supply was nearly cut off and clawed at his hands, but only managed to break her fingernails as they raked over his indestructible skin. Wayne continued to fight a useless battle. He kicked, punched, and bloodied his knuckles. Mayhem watched with nasty amusement as Wayne struggled. She opened her mouth to beg him to stop—that it was pointless and he would only hurt himself—but her voice withered. Mayhem squeezed tighter, cutting off more air.

The horrible crunch of bones was a sickening sound and the bile rose in her throat. Wayne cried out, ceasing his struggles. Roxanne turned her head as much as she could in Mayhem's grip to look at Wayne. Beads of sweat sparkled all over his blue cranium, illuminated by the flames, as his face drew up in pain. Roxanne's stomached turned when she saw the twisted fingers and awkward angle of his right hand. Wayne's knees bent and he probably would have collapsed but for Mayhem's grip keeping him upright.

Mayhem's blue eyes glittered in the dark. "That sounded like it hurt. Keep punching and kicking me if you want. There's nothing I like better than the sound of breaking bones."

Wayne's chest heaved in and out with each shuddering breath, but he was in too much pain to say anything.

"Stop it," she hissed.

"Or _what_?" he snarled in her face. "You told me yourself to come and get it, or don't you remember, Roxie? I'm just doing exactly what you told me to."

He dragged them to the sinkhole and held them over the edge. Roxanne planted her heels into the grass, but they slipped, unable to find traction.

"You don't look so tough now, Scott," he spat at Wayne. "That was some crazy getup you were wearing. The spikes were a nice touch though. Maybe I should add that to my wardrobe."

For a fearful second, Roxanne was afraid of what Wayne would say. He hadn't exactly shown himself trustworthy. He'd dehydrated Megamind—why, she didn't know—but how could she ever trust Wayne after that? Any minute now he would confess everything just so Mayhem wouldn't murder him on live TV. He was going to take the coward's way out and admit that he and Megamind had plotted to kill the supervillain. He would hand over the cubes and Mayhem would crush them to dust.

They would all die...because of Wayne.

She looked anxiously at her blue companion. Wayne's body grew stiff, his mouth tightened into razor-thin lines, and the green of his eyes were oddly darker than she remembered. Was it a trick of the light? Because something was different suddenly. Then it hit her. The expression on his face—she'd seen it before. It was an exact match...to Megamind's. Determination. Confidence. Superiority. They were all they there in every corner of Wayne's face. For a wild second, she wondered if somehow they'd switched places as some kind of crazy backup plan.

She might have believed if it hadn't been for one glaring difference. The goatee. This alien didn't have one.

He blinked twice, hard and fast. "That wouldn't be a good look for you."

"Why not?"

"Spikes indicate the intelligently gifted, i.e., not you."

Roxanne's jaw dropped. Where had _that_ come from?

"I'd exchange that gift for a pair of giant muscles any day."

"You can't exchange intelligence for muscles."

"Maybe I still have the receipt."

"And yet you'll only get store credit."

"My store has a one hundred percent money-back guarantee."

"Only if you shop at Stupid 'R Us."

"Wayne, don't—" she choked. This newfound confidence of Wayne's was going to get him killed sooner than later.

"No, no, Roxie! Let the wannabe hero talk. That's how he signed his death certificate in the first place—by opening his big mouth."

Mayhem squeezed Wayne's neck so tight that his eyes watered, but he kept talking, words coming out broken and spluttering. "You—re going to kill me any—way." He gasped, searching for air, eyes rolling back enough that they almost disappeared. "S-s-so why not go out with a...a bang?"

He pulled Wayne closer until they were nose to nose. "Oh, the bang will be so big that there won't be enough of you left to sweep up with a broom."

Wayne gasped, "The b-bad guy...kills-s-s the good guy...how bor—ringly unoriginal."

Mayhem was too busy monologuing about dismemberment and various other gory ways to kill him that he didn't notice when Wayne slipped something into the back pocket of her jeans. She wasn't about to pull it out and check, but had a strong suspicion that he'd given her the last dehydrated cube. There were only three left. Wayne's unexpected metamorphosis ignited a little flame of hope in her heart. If he could just buy her some time, then she could rehydrate Megamind and he could carry out his plan of luring Mayhem into a black hole.

"So in other words," Mayhem's nostrils curled. "I'm bigger, stronger, and don't have to be original, Scott—something you ignored. Now you're dead."

"Too late. I already keeled over from boredom five minutes ago."

"Shame...the witty banter wasn't half-bad."

Adding to Roxanne's shock, Wayne patted Mayhem on the arm with the hand that wasn't broken. "I don't think you know what witty means, big guy. Poor Mayhem left his dictionary in the same place he left his brain...under a rock."

"A rock I'll bash your brain with."

"What were we just talking about? Brains over brawn! And considering the enormous size of my brain..." Wayne shrugged.

"You can't hide behind your intelligence, especially after I stomp it flat."

"You got me there. If my IQ drops anymore points just by talking to you, then I guess I'm screwed." Wayne smirked, even throwing in a chuckle for good measure.

It was fascinating to watch them trade insults like some kind of psychotic tennis match, as though they had been doing it for years. Perhaps it had something to do with the other timeline. It may have been a different Metro City, but under the surface the people were essentially the same.

She expected the comeback to be more of the same banter, but Mayhem—like every supervillain—didn't play fair. "You got a girlfriend, Scott?"

Roxanne's blood turned to ice. She hoped..._prayed_...that he didn't.

Wayne looked equally stunned by the question. "Uh...n-no."

"Right...and that little stutter's supposed to convince me you don't?"

"I don't. You know us nerd types—," he said, bolstering his confidence, but his voice warbled around so much it was obvious that he lied. "—basement dwellers with only a computer for company."

"What's her name?" Mayhem asked patiently.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Wayne insisted.

Rather than say another word, Mayhem thrust Roxanne over the ledge. She didn't scream, but sucked in a huge gush of air. It was hard not to look down into the abyss beneath her dangling feet. Her stomach somersaulted. If he let go, there was nothing to latch onto.

"I won't ask again," he threatened, eyes as empty as the black pit he'd created.

"Don't you _dare_ tell him anything, Wayne!" she shouted, willing to face death. "Keep her safe!"

Wayne's body drooped as though the fight had gone out of him, but he stayed silent.

"Have it your way," Mayhem said with a careless shrug.

"Ja-JENNIFER!" he yelled just as Roxanne felt Mayhem's grip slacken. "Now bring her back!"

Mayhem didn't do anything. Roxanne closed her eyes, expecting to fall any second.

"Roxie and Jennifer...two girls for the price of one alien's head."

"Don't touch her!" Wayne snapped, beating against the hand encircling his neck.

Mayhem laughed, amused by Wayne's reaction. "My, my! Hit a nerve didn't I?"

Roxanne was helpless to do anything except watch. Every vein in his head bulged with each useless punch. He would break his other hand if she didn't stop him.

"Wayne! Stop!" Roxanne begged. "You'll only injure yourself trying to get away!"

"Who says—," he huffed, veins purple under his blue skin, "—that I'm trying to get away!?"

Mayhem's cruel laughter rang through the air like a discordant bell. "You talk big. You think big. But in the end, you're nothing."

To Roxanne's relief, Wayne stopped punching Mayhem, chest heaving from the wasted effort, but he managed to snarl with a surprising amount of acid, "And besides downright incompetence, the only thing you know is how to bully."

Mayhem's eyes narrowed a fraction. He was losing his patience. "I'd watch that mouth if I were you...don't want to end up like Roxie's hubby."

A thousand cold needles stabbed her heart. "What did you do to him?"

His stubbly cheeks spread into a vicious grin. "He's currently taking a nap under a building...my condolences to the widow."

_Bernard_...he couldn't be gone. He just _couldn't_. Mayhem might be lying. He enjoyed tormenting the innocent whether he told the truth or not. Yet as she looked into his eyes, alight with barely contained madness, she knew he was telling the truth. Roxanne hated—_hated_—to show weakness in front of him, but couldn't stop the tears that leaked out of the corner of her eyes.

"Look, can't we just get this over with?" Wayne griped. "Stop jawing and kill me already!"

"Of course," Mayhem said, "But first we have to set the stage." He threw Wayne to the side. The air came out of his mouth in a whoosh as he struck the ground. He rolled over, cradling his broken hand against his chest, deep lines of pain etched into his face. But he pulled himself into a sitting position, rubbing the purple hand-shaped bruise around his neck. "Roxie, bring your news van to City Hall for the very public execution."

One of Mayhem's arms encircled her waist. He released her throat, sliding his hand down her side until it too was around her waist. It felt like a boa constrictor was wrapped around her middle. He hovered over the sinkhole and slowly descended into its depths. Wayne's anxious face appeared above them at the edge, which shrunk in size the further down they went.

"Where are you taking her?" Wayne demanded, but he was ignored.

As they descended, she automatically clung to his arms and then immediately let go, repulsed by their closeness. He grinned, as though reading her thoughts and enjoying every second of her discomfort. She folded her arms, trying to create a barrier between their bodies.

Since the day they'd met, the vacant stare behind his blue orbs never ceased to terrify her, and she was unable suppress the shiver that crawled down her spine. Those eyes were dead—lacking in feelings of any kind. The emptiness in them left her cold. How had Megamind escaped such lunacy? He'd grown up in prison too—isolated and unwanted. But staring into his eyes was _completely_ different. It made her long to see his world with a strong wave of envy.

"You know," he said, voice uncharacteristically gentle—like a spider trying to lure the innocent fly into its web, "you could make this easier on yourself, but you just keep fighting me."

Wet tears still clung to her eyelashes and her nose ran, making her sniff. She stared over Mayhem's shoulder, seeing Bernard's face appear in the glow of the fire that still raged in the forest.

Putting as much venom as possible into every word, she spat, "I'll never stop fighting the _monster_ who murdered my husband!"

"Monster, huh?"

He leaned closer. She tried to move away, but his hand against her back was as solid as steel, trapping her in place. She turned her face, still able to see the outline of his hard jaw in her periphery. It was hard to maintain any form of composure when her hands wouldn't stop shaking so she balled them into fists and pressed them into her ribs.

He smiled softly, and then caressed her cheek with the same unsettling gentleness. "Babe, you have _no _idea just how much of a monster I am."

She pretended to ignore his threat. "Where are we going? I thought I was supposed to take the news van to City Hall?"

"Oh, you are, but I don't trust you not to drive away. I would find you of course, but I really don't have the time." They stopped next to the pipe Wayne had just been dangling from. "So you get to _hang out _while I take Wayne to City Hall."

Roxanne stared at the pipe and then at him. "What?!"

"You're getting kind of heavy, Roxie. I'd grab a hold of something if I were you."

Her hands curled around the pipe not a second too soon. Mayhem let go, but didn't fly away. He floated closer, pressing against her front. She cringed, but couldn't move. There was nowhere to go except the long drop to the bottom. Whatever made her skin crawl, he took perverse pleasure in doing.

"If you can't hang on, I'll go find Wayne's girlfriend to keep me company." She shuddered when his lips brushed her ear. "I'll be back for you," he said, lightly pressing his mouth to her cheek.

Roxanne peered at the sky as Mayhem flew off, carrying Wayne with him. Their eyes briefly met. His mouth opened, but there was nothing to be said—no words of encouragement. She knew as well as Wayne that the next time they saw each other again it would probably be the last.

But that was the least of her worries for the present. Her hands were sweaty and slid all over the pipe when she tried to tighten her grip. It didn't help that every small slip sent her heart racing through her chest. She didn't think she was all that heavy, but the longer she struggled to hold on, the more it felt like her body weighed thousands of pounds. There was little time left before she lost her grip.

And all she could think about was Bernard...Megamind...Wayne...the coming destruction of the city she loved...

Roxanne gave her brain a fierce reprimand. Mayhem just wanted to scare her into submission. If he thought that would work, then he really was a nut job. She wasn't about to let him beat her over the head with fear. Mayhem's threats were always promises, but she refused to go down that path, not until she had proof. The only way she could help Bernard and everyone else was to get out of this hole.

It was a difficult not to look down. The ledge was a long way up, but there had to be some way to climb to the top. There was enough of a glow from the fire to provide some illumination. Some wiring and two other pipes rested a few feet above her head in the wall of dirt. Reaching them was the tricky part. If the dirt wasn't too loose, maybe she could create hand and foot holds and climb up. If it was, then she'd fall to her death. Roxanne peered straight down into the sinkhole, seeing nothing but darkness.

Trying to climb was a big risk...and so was procrastinating. She'd rather take her chances. It was time to put all those Pilates classes to good use. After assuring her grip on the pipe was firm, she swung back and forth, gathering momentum. She stretched her legs painfully far, muscles burning, and hooked her ankles around the pipe. For a few minutes she waited to catch her breath and made sure the pipe continued to support her weight. It seemed sturdy and she continued at a snail's pace, unwilling to rush no matter how fast her heart was pounding. She scooted along the pipe and just as her hand connected with the cool earth, a voice cracked the air like a bullet.

"Ms. Ritchie? _Ms. Ritchie_?" The voice called frantically.

Roxanne was so startled that her feet slipped off the pipe. Luckily, she managed to hang on.

"Ms. Ritchie? Are you...still down there?"

"Minion!" she yelled, recognizing the voice. "Yes, down here! Hurry!"

Relief flooded her chest when the metal ape suit came into view, water sloshing around violently in his tank. "Oh, my goodness! I'll have you out of there in a jiffy!"

"Minion, you'll have to find a rope or a long branch or something and—"

"That won't be necessary!" he called down to her with a big smile.

Confused, she was going to ask what he meant, but her question stalled when his arm began growing. It grew and grew, extending out from his body. Fascinated, she watched it lengthening until the hand stopped right next to her. He wiggled his fingers and she eagerly grasped the metal appendage, sparing a parting glance at the abyss below. Hastily, she turned her eyes back to Minion.

"Hang on tight!" he said, as she locked her arms together.

He pressed a button on the front of the suit, retracting the arm. The wall of the sinkhole zipped by, making her feel like she was on an elevator. Just as she reached the edge, Minion grabbed hold of her with his other hand and pulled her over. Roxanne was never so glad to feel the soft crunch of grass under her feet, and walked several steps back from the ledge, leaning over with hands on her knees. There'd been too much dangling from this and that in one day to last her a lifetime.

"All you all right, Ms. Ritchie?" Minion asked, pressing a gentle hand to her back.

She nodded, straightening. "As good...as can be expected. Thanks to you."

He blushed, green scales shimmering with a cute shade of pink. "You're welcome, Ms. Ritchie. I'm just glad I got here in time."

"Where did you come from?"

He pointed to where the trees used to be. In the hazy leftover of the smoldering woodland, she saw the outline of a silver car. "Mr. Scott's car. He made me drive away without him."

"Why? He might have been able to escape!" she spluttered.

"Sir wanted to come back for you." Minion looked up, simultaneously appearing sad and proud.

Roxanne bit her lip. Wayne was reminding her more and more of Megamind every minute. The crestfallen face of her companion was more than she could stand. If something happened to Wayne, not only would Minion be devastated, but completely alone.

"We'll get him back, Minion," she said fiercely, taking his hand.

He didn't look away from the sky, as though hoping to find his friend somewhere in the stars. "Where did he take him?"

"City Hall."

A few feet away lay the still form of Seven. She slowly approached the brain bot and knelt beside him. Mayhem's hand had all but crushed the metal body. Every one of his legs was misshapen, one barely attached by a single cable. Glass shards were all that was left of the dome. She picked out the pieces from in between the delicate metal wires, careful of the sharp edges. With care, she took Seven into her arms as though he was delicate baby and not a robot covered in razors. She'd become fond of the little guy so quickly. It wasn't fair. He'd just been trying to protect her.

"Why City Hall?"

She cleared her throat and blinked away another bout of tears. "My guess is because he'll have a large audience."

"What are we going to do?" he asked.

"Only one person can answer that," she whispered, swallowing thickly. She thrust a hand into her jeans pocket and yanked out the last three cubes. "Minion, come with me," she said, handing them over to him.

With purposeful strides and Seven still in her arms, she headed straight for her news van. Miraculously, it had survived Mayhem's onslaught, just waiting for her to come back. After carefully placing Seven's lifeless husk in the passenger seat, she reached for the dehydration gun. Thank goodness she'd left it in the van, otherwise it'd probably also be at the bottom of the sinkhole too.

"Is Sir one of these?" asked Minion, holding one up to his tank to get a better look.

"I hope so," she said. "Put them on the grass. There's enough water left in the gun's reservoir for rehydration."

As soon as the glowing squares were on the ground, she spilled all of the water across them. With three little popping sounds, they were returned to their former selves. One person she didn't recognize at all. He was dark-headed and a lot on the beefy side—possibly one of Mayhem's idiot cronies. The second was that red-haired spy she'd whacked on the head with her tripod stand. The third was...

"MEGAMIND!" she shrieked, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Oof!" he wheezed when she gave his ribs an extra hard squeeze.

Her heart had been through so many ups and downs today. Holding onto Megamind, who was alive and real, made up for some of that. For some wild reason when she stared into his green eyes, hope flared in her heart and suddenly she believed—knew—he'd make everything right.

He pushed her back, staring around at the small crowd gathered by the van. "Where is that nerd? He had the audacity to dehydrate _me_!"

"I know, but he's gone and made it worse," she explained. "Mayhem—"

Megamind got a better look at her then, eyes widening in alarm. "You're hurt, Roxanne! And bleeding!" he said, just noticing the cut on her leg. "You need medical attention. Minion—"

She shook her head. "Never mind that now. I'm fine. Mayhem came faster than we expected and—"

"What's going on?" asked the beefy guy of no one in particular. He looked around, as though trying to get his bearings. "First, I'm fighting that old man...you!" He said, pointing a fat finger at Megamind. "It was you! You were an old man and then you weren't. Then you shot me with that ray gun!"

"Two times the charm," Megamind said, snatching the dehydration gun from Roxanne.

Mayhem's beefy henchman turned to run, but froze midair as the beam sucked him dry. As the cube bounced along the grass, Megamind, wearing a slightly crazy grin as he holstered the weapon, said, "I'll never get tired of that, evil or not."

Roxanne huffed impatiently. "Mayhem took Wayne!"

"Ha!" Megamind barked, eyes gleaming with manic satisfaction. "Good enough for him considering he was about to abandon us all."

She closed her eyes, willing her temper to calm down. "Look, I know dehydrating you was the worst possible thing he could do, but none of that matters now. We've got to save him!"

"I think 'got' is a strong word," he said, smoothing out the wrinkles in his leather jumpsuit. "Oh...stop Hal from escaping, will you, Minion?"

Bewildered, Roxanne turned to see the red-headed buffoon trying to limp away, dragging the heavy walking boot with every huff and puff. She'd completely forgotten he was there.

"Right away, Sir!"

Minion's metal arm shot straight into Hal's back, knocking him to the ground. Hal managed to get to his feet, but caught his toe on the heel of the walking boot and tripped, face-planting onto the grass. Rather than try to stand again, Hal scrabbled across the ground like a lopsided crab. Minion was faster and latched onto his ankle. Hal grabbed handfuls of grass as he was dragged backwards, leaving finger-shaped gouges behind in the soil.

"Think I'm getting the hang of this suit, Sir!" Minion exclaimed with glee.

Megamind approached Hal with a cocky swagger, who swung side to side in Minion's grasp. The black shirt he wore was a little too tight, riding up to reveal a freckly, rotund belly. "Hal Shtoowart! My old nemesis...we meet again."

"H-how do you know my name?" he stammered, covering his face with grass-stained fingers.

He pointed two fingers at his impressive head. "Genius! Duh!"

"Megamind, will you shut up and listen to me!" Roxanne cried. All eyes snapped to her face.

"There is no time left. Mayhem Man is coming back here any second to get me and the news van. He's still planning to kill Wayne during a live broadcast. We have to go now."

But Megamind didn't budge when she pulled his arm. "I tried to help Wayne and he stabbed me in the back!"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay! Yes, he did! But you can't just let Mayhem Man kill him!"

"Why not? He'll save me the trouble," he said with a petulant wave of a hand.

"I'll tell you exactly why not."

Roxanne pressed a hand against his cheek and pushed his face towards the massive crater that used to have a house on top of it. Megamind's gasp was so soft no one else could have heard it. Putting one shaky foot in front of the other, he walked up to the grassy ledge and stared into the sunken ground. He never said a word, but the stance of his body was suddenly as sharp-edged as the spikes covering his cape. The leather gloves he wore creaked as his fists clenched taut.

She walked over to stand beside him, laying a hand against his back. "Look...I know that Wayne betrayed you, but we can't leave him at the mercy of Mayhem Man."

Megamind remained stoically quiet. She wasn't going to give up though.

"This Metro City may not be the one you love, but we...we need you. You're the only person capable of stopping him—of saving Wayne—of giving us the chance to make this city beautiful again. Put aside your anger at Wayne. Please, Megamind."

He was so frighteningly still and unresponsive that she thought he wasn't listening. Then he blinked, shaking his head as though he'd been far away from his surroundings.

"Where...where is my time machine?" His voice was barely a whisper. "Or should I bother asking?"

_Oh no... _

She'd forgotten, but the memory came back with a vengeance, of a silver sphere falling into the depths of the hole. She wanted to offer comfort and hold him close, but the words died in her throat. What could she say when his only chance of getting back to his timeline..._his home_...was buried of under hundreds of tons of dirt?

"Megamind—" she ventured.

As he turned away, putting his back to the empty space, he met her gaze. The sudden change was almost palpable. Seconds ago, he'd been staring forlornly into the darkness, despair muting the bright green irises. If it had been her words or something else to change his mind, it didn't matter. What did matter was that a fire had re-ignited in his eyes, turning them into flaming pools of green. Determination poured from his entire body—the firm jaw—the eyebrows drawn into a tight black line—the ramrod posture. He looked ready for a fight, and in fact, looked as though he would welcome one.

The spikes encircling his neck and shoulders sparkled with ominous promises for anyone willing to mess with an ex-super villain as he stalked back over to Hal. Megamind tore him from Minion's grasp with a surprising show of strength for having such a slight physique. He dragged him over to the driver's side of the news van, threw open the door, and tossed him inside.

Hal's eyes crossed when Megamind pressed a finger to his nose. "You will drive us to City Hall. Don't think about trying to escape. Don't call Mayhem Man to come rescue you. Don't do anything unless you hear it from me first. If you so much as sneeze wrong, I _will_ kill you. Do you understand me?"

Hal nodded furiously, making his red waves bounce all around his forehead. "You got it, dude. Next stop, City Hall." With shaking hands, he buckled the seatbelt and started the engine.

Megamind's eyes narrowed coolly as he slammed the door shut in Hal's face, which had been too close to the window. It smashed his nose—not as satisfying as actually throwing the punching himself, but he'd take it.

"You wouldn't really kill him, would you, Sir?" asked Minion with a nervous laugh, as though hoping Megamind had just been joking.

"He's an idiot, but he's more dangerous than he looks. It's best I keep a close eye on him."

Roxanne noticed how he completely skirted answering the question. But that was understandable—it was a loaded question. Not for the first time, she wondered just what exactly Megamind's version of Metro City was like. There wasn't time, however, to chat about one city versus the other.

"What's the plan?" asked Roxanne urgently, ready to get going.

"Getting Wayne away from Mayhem."

"Is that all?" she said sarcastically. "I thought this was going to be hard."

He smirked. "Nothing I can't handle. Do you have a laptop in your news van?"

"Under the front seat," she responded with a sharp nod.

"I need to borrow it."

She marched over to the passenger side, throwing open the door. Hal was eyeballing Seven's metal husk and reached out to touch him, but Roxanne slapped his hand. He snatched it back, rubbing the offended skin.

"You wanna keep those fingers, you'll leave him alone."

Though it was brief, there was a spark of anger that passed like a shadow over his face. Hal didn't look dangerous at first glance, being freckly-faced and tubby, but there must have been a very good reason why Megamind didn't trust him. She swallowed her unease, pulled the laptop out, and handed it over to Megamind.

"Thank you," he said, tucking it under his arm. "Now let's get going."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

He grinned at her over his shoulder. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

**A/N: I know Wayne did an about face and went all Megamind suddenly, but consider, he **_**is**_** Megamind, essentially. They are still the same person, just different because of how they grew up. That confidence and drive was always there, Wayne just didn't discover it until it mattered. That's pretty much how I always intended the story to evolve. **

**Anyway, one more chapter down. I'm really not sure how many more there will be. I keep thinking I'm close and then I go add something else...so your guess is as good as mine. Again, I apologize for any typos. Thank you for still reading and being so patient with the long gaps between updates!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: Megamind belongs to Dreamworks-not me! But this particular story and idea are mine.**

**Chapter ****21: It****'****s a Mega-Plan**

"Ms. Ritchi, how are you holding up?" Mayhem called down into the sinkhole.

He didn't immediately swoop down to pluck the tantalizing reporter out of harm's way. He wanted to have some a little fun first and walked along the edge, not even bothering to see if she was still there. "Sorry I had to leave you..._hanging_." He laughed at his own joke, but she was giving him the silent treatment. "Come on, Roxie, even you have to admit that was funny!"

There was no sassy retort. In fact, his super ears heard absolutely nothing. No breathing. No rustle of clothing. Not even a heartbeat. Due to her tenacious talent for never giving up, he had expected her to still be clinging to the pipe, or to have climbed out somehow. Perhaps she wasn't as strong as he'd thought.

As his gaze swept the depths of the black pit, however, it was pretty clear she wasn't down there. There was no body. She hadn't disappointed him after all. He moved away from the edge and focused on the charred forest. She wasn't lurking there either.

But where...?

And that's when he noticed the news van was gone. So she had gotten out, maybe she even tried to escape. But Roxie was too noble. She'd never abandon Wayne to save herself. He needed a backup plan. That's what Bernard had been, his insurance. Though he'd more or less hinted to Roxie that Bernard had been crushed by the collapsed building, he wasn't completely positive. He hadn't bothered to check.

Mayhem pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed. His crew had been depleted significantly when he'd brought the old prison down on top of their heads, but he wasn't out of muscle. Plenty of guys still skulked around the city, eager to do his dirty work. Ten currently kept a close watch on Wayne Scott while he'd returned to pick up Roxie.

The guy on the other end picked up after one ring. "Al? Mayhem. Go back to the prison and see if you can find someone for me. If he's dead, forget it. If not, sit him right down next to Wayne." After giving Al a brief description of Bernard, he hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

His feet had barely left the ground when he detected the sound of a rumbling engine. The headlights of a car were approaching, but it abruptly stopped by the front gates he'd torn to shreds earlier. Mayhem hovered back into the shadows. Whoever this new arrival to the Scott grounds was might be worth the wait.

Possibly game-changing.

* * *

><p>Megamind liked to talk. A voice with perfection of resonance, such as his own, shouldn't be muted. Who wouldn't want to listen to such pleasing sounds? Throughout the years, he'd mastered the pitch necessary to strike fear into the hearts of Metrocity's citizens. His monologuing was the stuff of legend. He used to spend hours in front of the mirror practicing facial expressions to compliment his tones of terror—crazed eyes, frightful snarls, and waggling brows. Good trembled at the feet of his nostril flares. Just like devilish good looks, witty words, and unparalleled genius, evil laughter was part of the supervillain persona. Terrifying cackles unseated even the bravest of souls. Lucky for him, all those skills had been easily transferrable to the good side. Evil cowered from his heroic monologues and fell victim to his chortles of justice.<p>

But for the moment, Megamind was speechless.

All of the talking was confined to his ample cranium. He yelled at Wayne, at himself, and at the entire situation. If any of them survived today, it wouldn't have anything to do with his brilliance—amazing as it was—rather, a miracle would have to occur. The odds of success weren't encouraging. Hence the reason for his lack of chatter.

The time machine was gone...crushed by the collapsing earth. The five remaining brain bots had been inside. Poor Seven lay in the front seat, a misshapen husk of metal, another victim of Mayhem. It was unlikely the others had escaped, but he'd been unable to resist signaling them with his watch. They were more than capable of digging their way out. If their CPUs were still functional, then they'd respond. His projection watch remained stubbornly silent and he expected it to stay that way.

From the moment he changed the past, it had been a domino effect of all things bad.

Megamind wanted very badly to blame their current predicament on Wayne, who really had made a mess of everything. But hadn't Megamind almost destroyed Metrocity more than once in the old days? If not for his ill-fated time travel, this alternate world wouldn't exist in the first place. It seemed he was capable of big blunders no matter which side of the prison wall he'd been born on. He had no choice but to attempt a rescue because as much as he hated admitting it, letting Wayne die at the hands of that monster was wrong. He didn't particularly like Wayne. The guy was a whiny, annoying, know-it-all. Maybe it was just an odd sense of self-preservation considering that Wayne was the alternate version of himself—the person he might have become had things turned out differently.

The job for protecting Metrocity was Megamind's responsibility alone. He had a duty to save the people, to save Roxanne, Minion, and yes, even the dunderheaded Wayne. Besides, he needed a copilot for the DeLorean. With the sphere gone, that car was the only chance he had to get into space. If something happened to him, Wayne could carry out the plan.

Rescuing Wayne wasn't going to be easy. Causing a distraction was the key to keeping Mayhem busy. Incapacitating him was futile. He'd been there tried that too many times on Metroman with zero success. Without his usual equipment and theatrical displays, he was going into the fight empty-handed. He'd had to improvise or change plans in the past, but this time was different. There were no second chances today.

The coming showdown might be fatal. A heavy feeling pressed against his chest, almost like Mayhem Man was sitting on it.

Rather than think about that, he kept busy, tending to Roxanne's wounds with gentle care. The first-aid kit had never been opened, he noticed, which meant everything inside was new and clean. He quickly stitched up the cut on her leg, dabbed antiseptic on the numerous other cuts, and used the tails of his cape to wipe away the remnants of smoke marring her face. She smiled weakly, grasping his hand when he was done, squishing his fingers together. Roxanne was very strong. He should know. They'd had a little tug of war over his diffusion gun a few years ago. She'd won..._naturally_.

So far Hal hadn't given him any trouble. He was driving at a moderate speed, turning left or right, wherever Megamind ordered him to. The city streets were crowded once they reached downtown. All of the lanes leaving the central business district were full, both on the right and wrong sides of the road. No one wanted to get caught up in Mayhem's wrath. Hal squeezed the news van between the cars, clipping bumpers and knocking off side mirrors along the way. He yelled out the window at other drivers, whose angry honks echoed in his reckless wake.

There was a partition between the front seats and the back where all of the camera equipment was stored. Megamind had positioned himself next to the small window to keep an eye on Hal. Through the back door windows, he could see Minion following along behind them in the DeLorean. His best friend was still getting used to the hang of driving, running over curbs, hitting park benches, almost dodging stray cats...but Minion had always been a fast learner. Plus, the robotic suit gave him an edge. Its reaction time was faster than a human's and capable of big feats of strength. That's what had made him an excellent sidekick for so many years, that and his exceptional midnight donut runs.

Megamind glanced at the quiet woman sitting beside him.

"Are you all right, Roxanne?"

Roxanne didn't cry much. He'd seen her tears on a few occasions—sappy movies, when she lost a good friend to illness, and quiet moments when it was just the two of them. She was crying softly now and trying to hide it, repeatedly swiping at her cheeks. She'd told him what Mayhem had said about Bernard. It was still difficult admitting that _this_ Roxanne wasn't his wife. He couldn't hold her, kiss away her pain, or do anything else remotely resembling the intimacy they normally shared. The jealousy he felt hadn't dissipated because he just couldn't get used to the idea. It was nauseating when he thought about the two of them together. He certainly hoped his plan for destroying Mayhem worked so he could go home where everything made sense.

The old, evil Megamind would have been happy about Bernard's untimely demise, but when she was hurting, nothing made him happy.

"I will be," she said, attempting to sound brave.

"I'm so very sorry about...Bernard," he whispered, guilt-stricken because in a way, it was his fault.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, as though she changed her mind about what to say.

"What?" he asked, applying gentle pressure to her hand.

She shrugged. "I don't know if I'm being unrealistic, but I need proof first. Mayhem could have been lying about Bernard. He doesn't just cause physical pain. He enjoys crushing spirits too whether he's telling the truth or not."

He smiled to himself. Spirit-crushing was the modus operandi of _real _supervillains. He'd never done that until the Death Ray. Then he realized that it wasn't just the citizens of Metrocity who were suffering. He'd crushed his own spirit in the process. Being the bad guy had certainly taught him a hard lesson.

"I'm sorry about your time machine," she said, squeezing his hand in return.

"Just a minor setback," he said, waving her concern away. "I can always make another one."

Except that it wouldn't work without the binky. The first had been destroyed when his time machine crashed onto the Scott property. The second copy powered the dehydration gun, but he'd have to take it apart to get to it and didn't relish the idea of facing Mayhem and his army of bad guys without his preferred weapon. He had never been able to dehydrate Metroman, but it was enough to slow him down, and he'd need that advantage today.

There was only one more binky left. Wayne's. It was identical to Megamind's, given to them by their parents as their home planet was destroyed. Minion had said he wore it on a chain under his shirt. If something happened to that, then he'd never make it home. A small chill crept across his shoulders. High stakes, indeed. He kept that to himself though, not wanting to dampen any spirits.

"I don't doubt it," she said, and with a glance at Hal through the partition, lowered her voice. "What's the plan? Without the time machine, how can you get into space?"

He lowered his voice too. "The DeLorean is capable of space flight—Wayne's invention. I need to create a diversion, something big to keep Mayhem busy long enough to rescue Wayne."

Her brow furrowed. "Why can't you just dehydrate him?"

He smiled ruefully. That was the first thing he'd tried during his inaugural plan of diabolic devilry to rule Metrocity. Suffice it to say, Metroman was unfairly immune to total dehydration, but the results had provided an interesting alternative.

"It doesn't dehydrate him, but it will slow him down."

A small wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. "As in it reduces his speed or drains his powers?"

He waved his head in a yes and no manner. He opened his mouth, but glanced at Hal, whose brown eyes were staring at them in the rearview mirror. They got bigger when he saw that he'd been discovered eavesdropping.

"Watch the road, Hal!" he snapped.

Hal hastily faced forward, hunkering down in his seat. Megamind could only see the top of the red tufts of his hair. He leaned closer to Roxanne to whisper in her ear.

"Despite being impervious to pretty much everything, there is still a portion of his biological makeup that reacts to dehydration. He has to eat and drink just like the rest of us in order to keep his metabolism running, which is super fast like everything else about him," he said with grudging admiration, "My theory is that it acts like an energy drain. He can still move, but in slow motion. The effects don't last long though, two minutes to be exact."

"A lot can go wrong in just two minutes," she said, frowning again.

"Too much." He sighed, reliving the memories. "Dehydration was the closest I ever came to stopping him. He was very thirsty afterwards. Drank the entire center fountain in one super gulp."

She snorted, a cute little sound, he thought. "It's still weird to me that in your timeline, he's a nice guy."

"If it's any consolation, he's self-centered, double dips the guacamole, and cheats during poker," he offered, hoping that a few minor offenses would make her feel better.

It did. She chuckled softly. "You play poker with him?"

"Once a week. Though that wasn't my idea. It was yours...or my Roxanne's."

"Really?"

"Yes, she thought it would help me get past my abhorrence of his entire existence."

"Does it?"

Did it?

Megamind had hated Metroman since they were children. Years of deep-seated hatred for his arch enemy couldn't be erased overnight, if it ever could, but he didn't start planning ways to destroy him every time they sat down for a card game. That had to be counted as progress, right?

"Maybe a little."

She was silent for a minute, possibly ruminating about everything. "How does he cheat?"

He tapped the spot next to his eye. "X-ray vision."

"Wow," she said, drawing out the word.

"See, he's not such a goody-two-shoes in my world either."

She nodded slowly and lapsed into silence. He could still see the dried tear trails along her cheeks. Without looking at him, she asked, "Would you tell me honestly...can you really stop him?"

"Honestly..." he sighed, the heavy feeling returning to his chest. "I don't know. There are a lot of variables to consider. If even one thing goes wrong..." He trailed off and shook off the depressing thought. "I have to cause a diversion and incapacitate him with the dehydration gun. That only gives me two minutes to get Wayne, jump into the DeLorean, and blast into space. Hopefully, Mayhem will be mad enough to follow me—something I'm counting on."

"You're taking Wayne with you?"

He nodded. "I have to. In case something happens to me, Wayne can still carry out the rest of the plan." That wasn't saying much though considering Wayne's lack of bravado. He pictured himself dragging Wayne, kicking and screaming, all the way into space. They'd be lucky if this plan got off the ground. Literally. Megamind was so busy picturing his imminent doom that he missed part of what Roxanne was saying.

"...forgot to tell you!"

"What?" he said, shifting his thoughts back to the present.

As he listened to Roxanne describe the back and forth bantering between Wayne and Mayhem, his eyebrows rose high up on his forehead. Any higher and they'd slide over the back of his skull.

"It was like you'd traded places or something," she said, clearly amazed by Wayne's antics.

"Well it's about time," he groused.

Even though he would never admit it out loud, Megamind was impressed..._mildly_. Wayne had acted like a whiny baby since his time machine had crash-landed on the lawn. They were the same orphaned alien, but almost polar opposites. Where had that bravery come from and would it happen again? Part of Megamind's charisma and wit must have rubbed off on him in the past few days, which made much more sense than Wayne having thought of it himself.

If he could channel that bravery again, then they might actually stand a chance, albeit a minute one. But a chance was a chance.

She nodded. "Okay, then I want to help you." Megamind was already shaking his head 'no' before she'd finished speaking. "What? Why not?"

"I will not take chances with your life. There's no reason for you to be involved."

"Kinda already involved in case you hadn't noticed," she said dryly.

"Minion will provide all the help I need," he insisted.

"_Minion_ is still getting used to that suit, which makes him vulnerable," she countered. "I'm the next logical choice." She pulled the dehydration gun from his holster. "I'll slow him down with this," she said, patting the ornate weapon, "And that will give you a little more of a cushion to escape."

"Roxanne—"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't give me the damsel talk. I can take care of myself."

He fought a grin. Didn't he know it? "All right, Ms. Ritchi, your assistance is very much appreciated."

"I also think that I should show up with the news van just like Mayhem wants and set up the camera. That would be another way to keep him busy while you get Wayne."

Though Megamind didn't want her anywhere near ground zero, it was pointless trying to talk her out of it. She was extremely tenacious when she made up her mind to do something. It was one of the many things about that fearless reporter who he loved, and it had also given him a heart attack or ten or more occasions.

"Just be careful," he cautioned. "You know how you are."

She grunted. "Yes, I do. Reporting isn't for the timid."

They were close enough to City Hall, but still far enough away that many of the buildings kept them hidden. He looked through the partition at Hal and ordered, "Stop here now."

"But I thought we were going to City Hall?"

"Just do it!" he snapped.

"All right! Geez!" He slammed on the brakes, throwing everyone forward. "Groucho."

Megamind and Roxanne hopped out. Normally, Metrocity's lights were so bright that they could easily be seen from space. He guessed that at least half of the city was dark and had been for quite some time, if the dilapidated state of the buildings was any indication. It gave him an idea. Darkness was a useful tool when trying to intimidate an opponent. He'd take any advantage over Mayhem that he could get no matter how small.

Many of the structures, businesses and apartments alike, looked abandoned. Street lamps stood tall, but the lights were burned out. Potholes and cracked curbs added to the rundown appearance. An old French bistro across the street was closed, windows boarded up. Other businesses—boutiques, coffee shops, and bookstores—stood empty.

It was eerie to see Metrocity this way. Megamind was used to the organized chaos of home. Metrocity wasn't meant to look like this, which cemented his determination to set things right.

Hopefully, he could keep the fight away from the residential district even though there didn't seem to be any curious bystanders. There were a few faces peeking out from between curtains in the apartments along the block. Not everyone had chosen to leave, either staying because of morbid curiosity about the coming public execution or a tenacious refusal to abandon their homes. Whatever the reason, he hoped no one would get in the way. Back home, there were the usual looky-loos, who liked to witness every grisly detail. There was even a fan club of weirdos who lurked the streets hoping to get a picture of the action. Thanks to social media they kept in touch, spread out all over the city, armed with their cameras and autograph books. They _always_ caused more harm than good.

City Hall was partially obscured by the shorter buildings that surrounded it, blocking their view of the steps where Mayhem held Wayne hostage. Megamind didn't have to see him to know that he was there. Every edgy shiver down his spine was confirmation enough. Under the moonlight, the dome of City Hall was a gleaming white. The mayor in his time had just left it blue. It was odd seeing it any other color. Megamind looked away. It was just another reminder that this wasn't his home.

Hal opened the car door. "What are we do—oof!" He tripped over his feet as Megamind yanked him from the seat. "Watch it man!" he shouted as he was shoved towards the back of the van.

"Shut up!" Megamind snarled, pulling out a long extension cord from a storage compartment. None too gently he tied Hal's hands behind his back and then pushed him down to sit on the curb.

"Dude, I never saw you before in my life so what's with the hostility?" he whined, pulling at the tight cords. "Man, are these tight! You're probably cutting off my circulation!"

"Good enough for you," Megamind grumbled, satisfied with the knots. "You've caused me a lot of trouble."

"Dude, this doesn't make sense! I swear I never—" Hal tried to say.

Megamind didn't care that a different sequence of events had happened here. Hal was still a sniveling creep. He drew back a fist and decked him across the face. Hal dropped to the pavement with an impressive thud. The first time that he'd punched his former nemesis had been during their big battle. That had left him with a couple of fractures. He shook his hand, wincing. Punching a normal Hal was almost as painful as punching Tighten Hal. That skull was thick with or without superpowers.

Still...it had felt _really_ good.

Minion caught up to them and parked the DeLorean, rolling the left front tire over the curb. With a smile on his face, he climbed out and said, "Wow...I'm outside!" He looked up, mouth falling open as he stared at the skyscrapers. "So big," he murmured.

Megamind gave his best friend an indulgent pat. "Welcome to Metrocity."

It was difficult for Minion to look away from this fascinating new world, but he forced his gaze elsewhere, a sparkle lingering in his eyes. "Why'd we stop here?" he asked, looking up and down the dark street.

Gathering Roxanne's laptop in his arms, Megamind approached the door to the abandoned restaurant. "Because, my dear filet mignon, I've got to set the stage." The windows were boarded up tight, and the door was locked as expected, but that wouldn't be a problem. He glanced at his best friend. "Minion, your robotic primate strength is needed. Break the door down."

The little fish gasped. "Me...break _what_?"

"The door—they lead into buildings," he said, pointing a finger and thinking that Minion might not understand the concept of a door since he'd lived in a fish tank his whole life. "I need to get inside."

Minion retorted, "I know what a door is! But we can't—_I _can't! Isn't breaking and entering a felony or something?" Minion asked, eyes bulging.

Megamind smiled patiently. "Trust me, this isn't your first felony—my Minion's, I mean. Besides, this establishment has obviously been closed for a long time. I don't think anyone will care."

Minion obediently trudged up to the door. "So how many felonies does the other me have?" He wrapped his fingers around the bars and gave them an experimental tug.

" I didn't keep count, but it was extremely impressive."

The metal bent with very little effort and Minion jerked in surprise by how easy it had been. He pulled at another one, smiling when it too gave way. He was about to go for a third until Megamind cleared his throat, arching an expectant eyebrow. There would be plenty of time for Minion to test the suit's capabilities later.

Minion backed up to the edge of the curb, dropping his shoulder. He took off, metal feel clanking on the pavement. As expected, the door was blown off its hinges, showering the inside of the restaurant with a rain shower of broken glass. Megamind casually strolled inside and leaned over Minion, who was sprawled on top of the door.

"The fantastic fish to the rescue!" He grasped him by the hand. "Systems still working properly?"

Minion looked a little bemused by what he'd just done. "Um...I think so." He took Megamind's offered hand and got to his feet. "Cool..." he said, voice swimming with awe when he saw how easily he'd gotten through the door.

Megamind headed for a rickety table and chairs. Dust clouds ballooned under his feet with every step. He wiped off the cracked leather pad of the chair and sat down, powering up the laptop. Roxanne took the chair next to him, laying the dehydration gun on the faded red tablecloth.

"What else can I help you do, Sir?" Minion asked, obviously eager for more tasks.

Megamind glanced at Hal, drooling into a crack on the sidewalk. "Bring him in here so I can keep an eye on him. Then keep watch and alert me if you see anyone getting too close."

"Right away, Sir!" Minion squared his shoulders importantly and grabbed Hal's leg. As he pulled him across the threshold, he cut the corner too close and slammed Hal's head against the wall, muttering "Oops!" Lucky for Hal, he was already out cold. Then he took his place by the entrance as instructed and circled his small tank, steely eyes studying the city block for signs of movement.

"What are you doing?" Roxanne asked, nonplussed while peering at the screen.

"Hacking into the city's power grid," he said casually.

Minion's jaw dropped, night watchman duties forgotten for the moment. "Can you do that?"

"All formerly criminal geniuses can," he said matter-of-factly. "Though judging by this pathetic firewall, an idiot like Hal could do it too."

"No," Minion said patiently, "I mean..._should_ you do that?"

"How else would I get control of the lights around here unless I hacked into the power company's system?" he said, confused by Minion's question. "Besides, I'm going to save the city, which trumps the ethics."

Minion and Roxanne shared a look missed by Megamind.

"What are you going to do with the lights?" asked Roxanne.

"You'll see," he said cryptically. He didn't want to give anything away yet. Not that he had much in his arsenal. Without the mega-smoker and a hundred thousand brain bots to back him up, this presentation would be a little crude.

A sharp beep split the silent restaurant. Everyone jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion, especially Megamind. He hadn't expected to hear that beep ever again.

Roxanne leaned over his wrist. "That was your watch. Why did it beep?"

Megamind stared at the flashing dial, hope tingling in his gut. "Signal received," he read.

"What signal?" she repeated.

"Look!" cried Minion, pointing.

Megamind bounded over Hal's prostrate bulk and ran to the empty doorway. Down the street were five distinct blue dots of light approaching their position. It was hard to believe what his eyes were showing him, but as they came closer, it was undeniable. Five brain bots had successfully received his signal. Megamind had been contemplating the plan he'd wanted to use. Without the brain bots, however, he would have gone into the fight with only bare knuckles and wishful thinking for weapons.

Relief spilling over him, Megamind stood with open arms. "Come to Daddy!"

The brain bots swarmed him, looking like death warmed over. Their appendages were bent, broken, or missing. Cracks covered their glass domes. Dirt caked their metal bodies, but they appeared to be fully functional, except for Three, who weaved haphazardly through the air like he was drunk. He went up, down, and around in a dizzying motion. The motor control must have been damaged, but his metal jaws worked just fine when he took a bite out of Megamind's hand.

"Ow! Bad boy!" He scolded, but couldn't resist giving him an affectionate pat. With throbbing fingers, he addressed his cybernetic creations. "We have a big mission to fulfill today. We're outmatched by super evil, but we can make up the difference with my incredible genius and stealth. Brain bots..." He raised his hands dramatically. "Code: access Evil Plan 86."

"What's Evil Plan 86?" asked Roxanne.

"Multi-Mega-Me," he said, unable to stop the evil cackle that burst through his lips.

"Should I even ask?" said Roxanne as the electrical pulses in the brain bots' domes increased in speed while they accessed the file.

"Oh, yes. You should," he said, feeling a little of the old spirit that only an evil plan could wake up. "It's an oldie, but a goodie."

"_Accessed: Evil Plan 86,_" said bot Four.

"Perfect. Now each of you multiple the illusion by 100."

The parts that made up his brain bots were highly sophisticated—some of the greatest inventions in his gamut. Normally, he'd have over one hundred thousand to back him up. Today, he had five. Not exactly an army, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. He returned to the news van to retrieve a tool box from one of the storage compartments. Latching onto the handle, he carried it with him back into the abandoned restaurant and deactivated Three to do some quick repairs.

While he worked, Roxanne approached Minion, a look of unease settling in her eyes.

"Minion, you should know something," she said, laying a hand against his arm, "Before you rescued me, Mayhem threatened to hurt Wayne's girlfriend."

"He has a _girlfriend_?" Megamind asked, shocked enough that he dropped the screwdriver.

Minion blinked. "Mr. Scott doesn't have a girlfriend."

"Then who's Jennifer?"

The fish shook his head. "I don't know. We don't know any Jennifers. Why does Mayhem think he's got a girlfriend?"

A crease deepened between her eyebrows. "Mayhem was taunting him, saying he would hurt her, and demanding a name. Wayne insisted he didn't have a girlfriend, but Mayhem thought he was lying."

"So he just blurted out a random name? Why would he do that?"

Roxanne's cheeks colored, but she looked angry, not embarrassed. "Mayhem threatened to throw me in the sinkhole unless Wayne gave him a name." She smiled sadly. "Wayne must have lied to save my life."

Minion's lip quivered. "I always knew he had it in him."

Megamind listened quietly, the gravity of the situation urging him to work faster. Despite his irritation at Wayne and their continued inability to get along, he didn't hate him. It was almost like he'd found a twin brother who was his polar opposite. He couldn't just stand by and let Mayhem...nope. He wasn't even going to think the word because it wasn't going to happen.

Minion smiled. "There is a girl who works for him and she's been in love with Mr. Scott _forever_! He's just been too distracted by himself to notice her. Maybe he'll do something about it now."

Roxanne shared his smile. "What's her name?"

"Janeen. She's his executive assistant."

"I hope she's far from Metro City," said Roxanne, sounding mildly concerned. "Until this is all over at least."

He nodded. "She went to Paris for a technical conference and—" Minion blanched as the flow of words stopped.

"What's wrong? Minion?" Roxanne asked.

"She was supposed to fly back today." Minion gulped, panic seeping into his voice. "Oh no!"

"Where will she go when the plane lands?" Megamind asked, laying aside the wrench. He was finished repairing Three, who hovered about the room good as new.

"Scott Manor," he whispered.

No one spoke a word. All three shared the same thought. Mayhem was going back to Scott Manor to get Roxanne. But that's not the person he'd find.

"Call Janeen right now," Megamind ordered. "Tell her to stay at the airport."

* * *

><p>"Miss, are you sure you want me to take you into Metro City? Haven't you been watching the news?"<p>

"Of course I have!" Janeen snapped, buckling her seatbelt. "That's why I need to get to Scott Manor now."

"But they're saying on the radio that it's on fire," said the cab driver, pulling away from the curb into traffic. "It might be safer to stay at the airport."

She glared back at his nervous face in the rearview mirror, throwing a handful bills over the front.

The cab driver glanced down at the wad of money littering the shabby leather seats, but didn't make a move to pick any of it up. "Suit yourself, young lady. I just hope you're not making a mistake."

Janeen stared through the window, gnawing a spot onto her bottom lip until it stung. Wayne hadn't answered any of her calls, but that wasn't completely out of the ordinary. He'd get so involved with his work that he'd avoid contacting the outside world for days at a time. Minion, however, always answered the phone, but she hadn't been able to get a hold of him either.

Being a worry wart came naturally to her, especially regarding Wayne. He was so helpless. Awful scenarios kept playing out in her head. Seeing the video that had blown up social media just made everything worse. Roxanne Ritchi, Metro City's favorite reporter, had been interviewing Wayne, who'd pretty much challenged Mayhem Man in a fight to the death.

_What was he thinking?! _

It didn't make sense. Wayne had never even mentioned Mayhem Man before much less challenge anyone to anything in his life. What had gotten into that giant blue head of his? She nervously shook her knees up and down, eyes shut to the world. Why she cared didn't make sense either. It's not like Wayne thought much of her beyond the fact that she was one of the countless drones who worked for him. As distressed as she was by that thought, she pushed it aside.

The most important thing was to hightail it to Scott Manor and find Wayne. Maybe the fire department was already there blasting the flames with their massive hoses. The thought encouraged her, but Janeen's heart raced anyway. She had to talk some sense into her boss, or at the very least, make him leave town. She was confident that Wayne would listen to her—he usually did.

When she saw the giant black cloud of smoke hanging over the hilltop mansion, her stomach twisted and she almost gagged. The cab driver refused to go any further once they reached the long path that lead to the house. He threw out her suitcases and jumped back into the cab, flooring it in reverse to get away. She didn't another waste another minute and took off up the long gravel driveway, hair falling loose from her carefully constructed bun. The glasses bounced around her nose and she stumbled, scraping her palms on the gravel.

A horrified scream burst from her mouth when she saw...nothing. Scott Manor was gone.

"WAYNE! MINION!"

All that was left was a deep crater. She dropped to her knees at the edge. Pieces of the once great manor littered the bottom of the deep chasm, illuminated by the burning embers from the dying flames. The beautiful, seemingly ageless oaks had been her favorite place to take a walk or read during lunch. Nothing but burnt stubs remained. The world was spinning...she was spinning. Had Wayne been able to get Minion out of that tank in time? Or were they both trapped down there? What about Lord and Lady Scott? The staff?

Were they all..._dead_?

Only one person could have brought down a mansion of this size. Mayhem Man had responded to Wayne's challenge with swift vengeance. Defy him and you died. Cruel, but simple. The fire department and police—basically useless in this crime-infested city—had never come to help judging by the decimation of the Scott grounds. Why would they? Helping an enemy of Mayhem Man was a death warrant.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Janeen scooted away from the edge and tried to stand, but her head was swimming so forcefully that she fell on her face. She lay in the grass while thoughts assailed her mind...the last time she saw Wayne. He'd smiled at her over a breakfast meeting a few weeks ago. He'd been talking about Minion, his best and greatest friend. It had been a real smile, something he rarely did, and it had warmed her heart.

"Oh, Way-ne..." she said, choking on his name.

After a few more moments to gather her wits, she was able to get to her feet and looked around, hoping to see a blue head nearby, but he wasn't there. Maybe they'd gotten away in time before the house was swallowed by the ground. The only way to find out was to search. Downtown was a pretty good distance without a car, but she didn't have another choice.

Janeen turned and smashed into something painfully solid. She bounced backward with a yelp and almost fell but for a hand that reached out like a blur to seize her wrist. Her gaze traveled slowly past the hand, over the arm of bulging muscles, and up to the face that everyone in Metro City feared.

_Mayhem Man._

Bad boys were always popular with the girls. To them, danger was exciting. Some of her moronic co-workers thought he was gorgeous, despite his murderous record, perverse nature, and blatant disregard for everything decent. They swooned and giggled like idiots when he was on TV. A lot of those dummies would be jealous of her current position. His Greek god physique was massive by human standards—coal black hair, big blue eyes, glowing white teeth, and muscles that needed an entire crew of mountaineers to climb over. He fit the tall, dark, and handsome bill perfectly.

Janeen had never seen an uglier man in her life.

She didn't bother hiding her look of disgust, but he didn't seem offended. In fact, he looked like he was having fun. Without warning, he let go of her hand. Since she'd been in the middle of falling she couldn't find her footing and landed flat on her back. He stood over her like a giant that had just found an interesting bug crawling across the ground. She had a feeling he was about to squish her with his big boot.

"Well, well, well...you must be the illustrious Jennifer."

The roaring of the alarms in her head must have made her hear things. "W-what did you call me?" she asked.

He ignored the question. "I wasn't expecting you to be a red head. I like that."

"My...my n-name isn't Jen—Jennifer." Maybe he'd let her go since she wasn't the right woman.

He dropped to one knee beside her and reached out to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear, but she slapped his hand away. Of course, that didn't do anything remotely helpful. She struggled to keep from crying out in pain. It had felt like slapping a rock. He reached for the same hand, laced their fingers together, and squeezed.

_Hard_.

Her breath caught. Immediately, she jerked it back, but that just made the pain worse. Surely her bones were breaking, but she couldn't stop pulling. Every fiber in her being was screaming at her to escape.

"It's not?" he said, seeming unconcerned.

Despite the pain, she was puzzled by how calm he looked. They could have been discussing something as mundane as the weather. The guy was a loose cannon, but this calm, almost bored manner was a lot more terrifying.

"N-no." She inwardly cursed her stuttering.

"Why would he have told me you were Jennifer?" he mused.

Janeen thought it was better to stay silent. A grin split his big face, sending a wracking chill through her body. He wasn't going to let her go no matter what her name was.

"Unless...he thought a different name would protect you. How noble. Too bad he didn't know you were about to pay him a house call. I can't wait to see the look on Wayne's face when I bring his little girlfriend along to join the party."

"Girlfriend?" she repeated, reeling to hear herself referred to as '_Wayne's girlfriend'_. "No...no, I'm not. I swear I'm not!"

"Don't play innocent. I heard you calling out his name, weeping because you thought he was dead." He leaned in close, nose running along her collar. "You smell good. Sweet."

Janeen had the sudden image of a snake ready to sink a pair of fangs into the unsuspecting rat's neck. She glanced at the sinkhole. "Does...that mean he's still alive?"

"For now, but you're going to make it so much more interesting."

* * *

><p>Minion stood at the doorway, back to the room, keeping watch as Megamind had instructed. He hadn't spoken in over twenty minutes. His fins gently rippled in the water, but he was far from calm. Every five minutes, he picked up the phone, hoping to reach Janeen. She hadn't responded to any calls yet. There could be a number of reasons why she hadn't answered. She could be stuck in an area without a signal, had a dead battery, or maybe lost her phone. As Roxanne mentally ran over the list of possibilities, she had a bad feeling that none of them were true.<p>

Hal sat in a chair, mouth gagged. Every couple of minutes, he tugged at the camera cord still binding his hands, but the know was too tight, leaving his wrist chafed. The left side of his face was swollen, eye partially closed and turning black. Complaining and lots of cursing spilled through the gag, but luckily it was muffled. His dirtiest looks were reserved for Megamind, who was too preoccupied with the laptop to notice. The longer Hal struggled, the redder his face got. His entire head looked like a tomato. When he was out of breath, he slumped down, only to start fidgeting all over again five minutes later. Roxanne secretly observed their prisoner, thinking it was better to keep an eye on him.

She itched to get going, but as Megamind had said, he needed to prepare first. She watched in amazement as his fingers danced across the keyboard in a blur. She'd never seen anyone type so fast in her life. The IT guys at the news station couldn't even match his speed. He never hit the Backspace key.

_Ever_.

She started when Megamind softly announced, "I'm ready."

Roxanne swallowed hard enough to hurt. "Then I guess we should get going."

He nodded and looked to his little cyborgs. "Brain bots, spread out around City Hall. Stay hidden unless you're called. Minion, stay with Roxanne, but hide in the back of the news van until I get Wayne. _Don't_ leave her side."

"You got it, boss!" he said, handing over the DeLorean keys to Megamind, who stuffed them in a snug pocket.

"Where will you be?" she asked curiously.

He didn't say anything. For some reason, he was staring intently at a spot on the floor. "Hmm? Oh...I'll stay here a short time just for presentation's sake," he said, voice lacking inflection.

She didn't like that tone. It was too solemn. Minion had already left to get in the van, shutting the doors behind him. Megamind took her hand and walked her out.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" he said, giving her an obviously fake smile.

"You're not fooling anyone. Something is bothering you."

As though he couldn't control it, his gaze swept the sky. "Mayhem isn't just dangerous. He's evil. Truly evil. Be careful, Roxanne. Promise me."

"I will," she said impatiently, "but tell me what's bothering you."

He looked away, giving her a profile of his blue face in the dark. His fingers squeezed her hand so gently she almost couldn't feel it. "If I fail, if I can't stop Mayhem, promise me you'll leave Metrocity?"

The realization behind the distraction suddenly hit her. "You're expecting to fail."

"I've never beaten him!" he burst out. "Metroman, Mayhem...they have the same super strength. Sometimes my plans went off without a hitch and sometimes they were disastrous from the get-go. No matter what I threw at him, I _always_ failed."

She happened to glance back at the empty restaurant and the open doorway. Hal could hear everything they said. In fact, he looked extremely interested in their conversation. Narrowing her eyes at Hal, who stared back with just as much hostility, she pulled Megamind down the sidewalk until they were out of earshot.

Fixing him with a stern glare, Roxanne snapped, "Okay...yes! The odds are against us tonight. Yes, he's indestructible by human standards. And we probably don't stand a chance of actually beating him, but I also know that you are something that he'll never be."

"What am I?" he asked curiously.

She laid a hand over his heart. "Good...right here. And good _always_ wins."

To her immense relief, his eyes burned a little greener. His shoulders squared, making him look taller. "I've always told you that you're a lot smarter than me."

She grinned. "Me? Smarter than a genius? I like the sound of that."

He held up one finger in the air. "But, I still want you to leave if something goes wrong. I'll feel better knowing that you're far from this place."

She sighed. "I promise I'll leave if I have to."

"Good," he said, relief evident in that one little word. He cleared his throat. "And um...if you don't mind...I'd um..."

"What?"

Megamind didn't finish, but he moved closer. She knew he was going to kiss her, but his lips didn't come anywhere near hers. He'd pressed his mouth against her forehead, lingering longer than probably should have. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet pressure on her skin.

Then the moment was over. He shut the door to the van and she drove away, heading towards an uncertain future. The slight pressure of the innocent gesture was a gentle reminder of how much was at stake. It wasn't just herself or Metro City that he was fighting for. The other Roxanne, the other Minion, the other Metro City-he was fighting for them too and for a chance to return home.

She glanced at the van's side mirror. In the dark twilight, she could only make out Megamind's silhouette, watching her drive away.

* * *

><p>Wayne Scott...the man of the hour.<p>

Wayne rolled his eyes as the thought roamed through his head. Some man he'd turned out to be. His entire life had been spent hiding in a basement. Truth be told, he hadn't cared about anything beyond the walls of his carefully constructed life. Then Megamind showed up, ruining pretty much all of that.

Minion had been the only one he'd trusted. His parents had never seemed all that interested in him. Conversations were forced and awkward. He couldn't wait to get away from them most of the time. But Minion was the epitome of what family truly meant. He'd stood by Wayne during a life of solitude. His best friend may have been confined to a tank, but he'd always taken the time to listen, to care, and more importantly, to give him love.

How had Wayne repaid Minion for years of faithfulness?

He'd turned his back and walked out the door. In the blink of an eye, he'd betrayed that trust. What Wayne had done was truly despicable and dumb. Wasn't he supposed to be a genius? If that were true, then he should have seen the stupidity of such a cockamamie scheme. For some imbecilic reason, he'd actually believed he could switch places with Megamind and assume his life.

It was hard not to compare himself to his twin in this situation. Would Megamind just sit around and wait to be executed? Not a chance. His counterpart was a tough guy who challenged supervillains in fights to the death. In fact, he was a lot like the heroes in all of those comics Wayne had been reading since he was a kid. The odds were always against the good guys, but they never gave up. That's what made them heroes. Megamind had lived on the wrong side of the tracks, but became the city's protector. Wayne had grown up with enough money and power to change the world, but had he actually done any protecting?

Not even close.

He wasn't the hero. He was the bumbling wannabe that screwed everything up.

A coward.

Because of that one fateful mistake, he'd lost everything. All of his memorabilia, cool toys, and expensive equipment were gone. The basement—his safe haven—had been obliterated, but the material stuff could be replaced. What really gnawed at his gut was that he didn't know if Minion had safely gotten away. He hadn't actually seen him drive out of the basement. If something had happened to his best friend—his only friend—then...he didn't know what to do. Minion was a part of himself as much as his heart, lungs, and brain—everything that kept him alive. Without Minion...he couldn't think. It was like staring into oblivion.

He probably deserved that. In the back of his head, he could hear Minion's voice scolding him and telling him to keep his chin up. He'd give anything to hear that scolding one more time, just to know Minion was all right.

Wayne glanced up at the twinkling stars. Mayhem had been gone a long time. What was he doing? Maybe he was planning to drop a house on Wayne's head or something. Not that he was in any hurry to die, but sitting around waiting for it was starting to annoy him. A normal person would be afraid, but he was just plain irritated. Not that he'd ever been all that normal.

For some reason, he couldn't suppress a little snicker, earning a few raised eyebrows from Mayhem's goons, who surrounded him like a SWAT team. He raised one back in retort. Odd, how he was being so flippant about his pending execution. There was nothing funny about the current predicament. Was this what insanity felt like? It certainly took a lot of effort to suppress the crazy laughter trying to climb out of his throat. If he really had gone nuts, then that could explain why the thought of dying didn't really scare him.

Only an idiot with a death wish would have insulted Mayhem like he'd done. Where had all those barbs come from anyway? One side of his brain had yelled at him to stop, the other side wouldn't shut up. He'd hurled insults at Mayhem with wild abandon, knowing that the outcome would be death and not caring. He could barely remember what he'd said. One thing he remembered feeling all too well.

White hot anger.

For the first time in his life, he'd let that emotion take control. It had felt good to seethe at that tyrannical bully. He didn't regret it or the broken hand that had come with his tirade. He'd had his head in the sand for over twenty years while Mayhem plundered and pillaged, destroying Metrocity from the inside out. Wayne had hated seeing his home torn apart, but had never lifted a finger to help.

If his penance for that inaction was death, so be it.

Janeen eventually joined the pool of thoughts that were running out of control. She wasn't his girlfriend, much less a friend, but hearing Mayhem threaten her was too much. He didn't know anyone named Jennifer. That name had just popped into his head. There wasn't much he could do to help her while Mayhem held him hostage, but he'd done what he could.

She was still in Paris as far as he knew. That hadn't been very nice of him to just desert her without saying a word about where he was going. But it was typical. Wayne cringed. Janeen had been an afterthought just like everyone else. He'd never have the chance to see her again. Wayne entertained himself by picturing various scenarios where they accidentally ran into each other. What would they talk about? Computers were the usual topic of choice, but Wayne didn't want to talk shop. He wanted to be cool and charming. He tried that in the past, but people usually thought he was creepy. What if he just told her hi? That seemed boring, but it was the only thing he could think of.

A groan from the dusty lump next to him broke through his reverie. He glanced down at his unfortunate companion, who looked twice as bad as Wayne felt. He'd never seen the guy before, but Mayhem's crew had shown up in a van, pulled open the sliding door, and tossed him onto the pavement. From the looks of his injuries, he'd had a pretty rough day. His leg was broken and there were too many bruises and cuts to count. The nasty gash near his hairline left a trail of blood all the way past his chin, staining what used to be a crisp white shirt. He probably had a concussion. He was about average in size with crazy hair that stuck out all over the place.

The poor fellow lay on the concrete, trying not to lose consciousness. Wayne helped him out every now and then with a gentle smack to the cheek. If he went to sleep, he might not wake up again. Wayne found out his name and what had happened to him.

Wayne tapped his cheek again. "Bernard...how ya holding up?"

Bernard didn't look threatening, especially in the shape he was in, but Mayhem must have a reason for wanting him here. He didn't keep people alive as a standard rule, otherwise, he'd have been left to die under the building that had come down on his head. Considering Mayhem's murderous record, being crushed by a building was probably better than whatever Mayhem was planning.

Bernard stirred. "Th-thir-sty," he managed, licking his dry, cracked lips.

Mayhem's guys had the two of them surrounded, armed with a variety of weapons. Wayne looked up at the closest lackey. "Hey!" he barked. "Find him some water will you?"

"We don't take orders from you!" said one, who stuck a finger under Wayne's nose.

He'd just learned his name was George. "Fine by me, George, but Mayhem sent you to find this guy for a reason. Obviously, he wants him alive. So if he dies of thirst—something that _you_ could have prevented, by the way—then I'm sure Mayhem will completely understand." He smiled, filling up his voice with as much sarcasm as possible. "He's so forgiving you know."

George cut his eyes to the guy next to him and shoved him forward. "Jon, get the guy some water!"

Jon stepped on his untied shoelace and tripped when he couldn't lift his foot. "But—"

"Just do it, will ya?" George barked.

"From where?" he asked, looking around as though expecting to find a blinking neon sign with an arrow pointing toward water.

"There's bound to be vending machines in City Hall, idiot," he glared.

"Oh. Right."

Jon ran inside the old city building and ten minutes later returned with a bottle of water. He rudely threw it at Wayne, who automatically raised his hand to block the attack, forgetting for the moment that it was broken. The bottle bumped his swollen pinky. Wayne hissed through his teeth as the pain radiated all the way to his shoulder. After a moment, it subsided enough that he could move again. If Bernard hadn't desperately been in need of the water, he'd have thrown the bottle right back at George's face.

He gripped the bottle between his knees since his right hand was useless. The plastic popped and cracked as he clumsily tried to twist the cap off with his left hand. Bernard hadn't moved much, but his breathing seemed even enough. Wayne hoped that was a good sign.

He gave Bernard's shoulder a little shake. "Bernard? Hey, I've got some water."

He shook harder. Bernard's eyelids peeled apart, as though glued shut. Recognition lit up his eyes for a second. "Wayne Scott?" Then he softly said, "Is she okay?"

"Who?" Wayne asked, tilting the bottle over Bernard's mouth.

"Did he hurt her?"

The guy was obviously delirious, probably due to the head injury. "You have to tell me her name, Bernard."

"Rox—anne."

Wayne stared. "Roxanne? As in Ritchi?"

The ghost of a nod was Bernard's answer. That was weird. Why was he asking about her? Did they know each other? He pushed the bottle at Bernard's mouth, letting him swallow just a small amount before pulling away.

Then it hit him.

Bernard was..._Roxanne's husband_. Oh no. That was why Mayhem had sent his guys to pick him up! Bernard's purpose in all this was to be bait in Mayhem's perverse game. To hurt Roxanne. Terrific. This had just gone from bad to worse, especially since Bernard wasn't looking too good. He was so distracted by this new discovery that he didn't notice Bernard reach for the bottle until it was jerked out of his hand with surprising strength.

Wayne jerked the bottle out of his hand to stop Bernard from guzzling the entire thing. "Easy there! Not too much. You don't need to choke on top of everything else."

Bernard rubbed a dirty hand across his mouth, smearing a dark trail across his cheek. "Doesn't matter. Not sure how much longer I can make it."

Wayne's eyebrows rose at his companion's sudden lucidity. "Hey, come on now. Think positively."

"I'm a realist," he said, voice taking on a bored pitch. He was able to raise his hand, touching the bottle with a fingertip, indicating he could use another drink.

Wayne gave him a little more water, but quickly replaced the cap. It would be better to conserve it since they could be here a while.

"Wh-where's Roxanne?" he wheezed, coughing to get the words out.

There was no way he would tell Bernard the truth. It was horrible enough just thinking about the last time he'd seen her—dangling precariously from a pipe in that deep hole just for Mayhem's sick amusement. He prayed that she had been able to climb out. "She's all right, Bernard." Truthfully, Wayne didn't know, but the poor guy needed something good to think about even if it was a lie.

The small fib appeared to settle Bernard's worry. His acutely squared jaw slackened and then his mouth turned up in smile at the corner, although it could have been a grimace. Smiling looked awkward on Bernard's face, like his facial muscles were uncomfortable doing it. Then his eyes drifted shut, but Wayne promptly smacked his cheek.

"Stay awake! You can't fall asleep with that concussion."

Bernard mumbled again, the words coming out with a gentle whoosh of breath. "She's...late for...dinner."

"No, she's not. She's on her way," he said, wondering what memory Bernard was lost in.

For a while longer, Wayne continued to poke or smack Bernard, albeit gently, to keep him from losing consciousness for good. He might not wake up again if he didn't keep him moving and talking. From the labored sound of his breathing, he probably had a few broken ribs too. Suddenly, his broken hand didn't seem too bad.

As the night grew later, Wayne kept impatiently watching the skies for any sign of Mayhem. Not that he wanted to die, but sitting around waiting for it was getting tiresome. The bottle of water was almost empty. He really didn't want to ask for another and doubted they'd go fetch anymore. After giving Bernard another tiny shove, whose eyes snapped open, Wayne stretched out his tingling legs. Sitting on the hard concrete steps was not helping his back either. Everything was going numb.

As he shifted around trying to find a more comfortable spot for his bony backside, headlights shone like twin suns coming around the corner of a building about a block away. It was a van with a broadcasting pole on the roof. Roxanne! She was alive! As the van neared their position, Mayhem's lackeys positioned themselves in a straight line in front of Wayne and Bernard, readying their weapons. He thought about telling Bernard that she was here, but changed his mind. The man was too concussed to remember anything important at the moment.

The news van, sporting KMCP-8 News in big blue letters on the side, pulled to a stop. Roxanne stepped out and shut the door with a slam. She'd fixed her hair, but there was still pieces of Scott Manor trapped within her ponytail and dusty patches covered her jeans and shirt. There were a few bruises on her arms and legs, but for the most part, she looked all right.

Placing her hands on her hips and giving Mayhem's crew a less than friendly glare, she snapped, "I'm here with the camera. Where's Mayhem?"

"Boss had to run a quick errand," said Jon with a sneer. "Sure he'll be back soon."

She shrugged, giving the appearance of haughty indifference. "Whatever. I'm going to set up."

Wayne's eyes met hers for a second, but he couldn't detect any kind of signal. Maybe she was just checking to make sure he was still breathing. Roxanne approached the rear doors in the van and pulled them open. Apparently, she hadn't seen her husband yet. He glanced down at Bernard, who'd heard the van's engine and was struggling to sit up. He just managed to prop himself up on one elbow.

"S'going on?"

"Uh..."

What should he say? As it turned out, he didn't have to say anything. Bernard was having another moment of clarity, seeing through the buzz of the concussion to his wife who was in the process of setting up her equipment.

"Roxie?"

Her head snapped up, eyes locking instantly onto his face. Her mouth moved, parting enough that her teeth were visible. She held back whatever was on the tip of her tongue. On the outside she looked like her usual self. Cool as a cucumber. But the relief in her eyes was almost as bright as the stars twinkling overhead. The hand gripping the camera was bone white at the knuckles. She fought to maintain control, especially after noticing Bernard's multiple injuries. His head was still bleeding and that odd twist to his broken leg looked awful. Wayne had glanced at the broken limb just once and nearly lost his lunch. Roxanne couldn't seem to look anywhere else. Her only notable reaction was a mild twitch in her cheek.

"Hello, Bernard," she said, sounding like she was sitting down for an interview. Maybe she was. "Are you all right?"

Jon glanced over his shoulder at the prostrate form of Bernard. "You know this guy? What does Mayhem want with him?"

Roxanne glared. "How should I know?"

"Feeling..." Bernard took a big breath. "...my age. Y-you?"

"Overworked and underpaid," she answered, returning her attention to the camera.

Bernard smiled, eyes drifting closed. Wayne shook him again, marveling at how calm they both looked. He guessed it was their way of checking on each other without drawing too much attention. Wayne's fellow hostage looked a little brighter, still loopy, but better. He handed him the bottled water, or what was left of it. There was only enough for one more sip.

"Thanks," mumbled Bernard.

Wayne nodded to him and stood, suppressing a groan when he jostled his hand too much. "So, Ms. Ritchi, what's the best camera angle for me to be in when Mayhem kills me for my misdeeds?"

She smirked. "Front and center of course."

"Right."

Doing his best to maintain a cool exterior, he calmly walked down the steps and stopped at a point about ten feet away from the camera. Roxanne adjusted the tripod a few more times, sneaking a few glances at her husband in between.

A flash of movement drew Wayne's attention to the van. Roxanne had left the back doors open. At the space between the door and the van, he saw a brown eye peaking through and the flutter of a delicate fin.

_Minion…he was alive!_

Wayne wanted to run to his best friend, but he looked away, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention. He'd been wondering if that dehydrated cube he'd shoved in Roxanne's pocket was his counterpart. Seeing Minion here must mean that Megamind was close. He did a quick sweep of the area surrounding City Hall. The long, rectangular pool was empty. It hadn't been full in years. There was no point in maintaining it in a city that was dying. From his vantage point, he couldn't see anyone hiding down there. A park was close by, but it was too far and too dark to see if there was a blue person peaking around edge of a tree. Roxanne didn't give an indication one way or the other as to Megamind's current state. Not that he expected her to. No need to give up the ace prematurely.

Something overhead caught his attention. The stars were randomly appearing and disappearing and he realized that it was Mayhem streaking through the cloudless sky. Finally! There was something odd about his appearance though. It looked like he had four legs. Had he brought some other poor victim along to join the terrible show?

As Mayhem approached, it was obvious he carried a petite person in his gargantuan arms, but it was still too dark to identify them. Mayhem, wearing a smug grin, lowered himself and his passenger down to the ground with deliberate slowness, landing between Wayne and the camera. Wayne just stared, unable to move or say anything. He was holding—too close for comfort—the last person Wayne expected to see, the last person he wanted to see. Her bright red hair stood out like a beacon in the night.

"Janeen," he whispered.

Mayhem smirked. "Ah...Janeen is it? The little brat wouldn't tell me."

Wayne cringed all over. She wasn't supposed to be here! "What are you doing here?" he yelled, voicing his thought out loud.

Janeen opened her mouth, but Mayhem cut her off. "Strictly for my entertainment, and I gotta say, Wayne, I'm already having a blast. Look at you, all hot and bothered just at the sight of her."

Mayhem violently shoved Janeen into Wayne's chest, sending them both crashing onto the sidewalk. Their arms collided. He yelped as the pain spread through his broken extremity. She jerked away from him as though she'd just touched a burning stove.

"Are you okay, Wayne?" she asked fearfully, hovering close, but not touching.

"You are such a _jerk_!" he said, sitting up, pouring every bit of anger he had into that one word.

"I'm..._what_?" she said, aghast.

With his good hand, he reached for hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Not you, Janeen." His gaze slid back to their tormenter, eyes narrowed into green slits of rage.

"Ouch, that was a mean," said Mayhem, laying a hand against his chest, pretending to be wounded.

"There's no need to use anything fancier because the simplest description is usually the most accurate."

Mayhem's eye twitched. "You're starting to bore me, dome head," he warned. "Keep mouthing off and you'll be dead before the camera's rolling."

"Finally!" he quipped. "Anything's better than waiting around on you to finish primping."

Janeen tugged on his arm, begging him to be quiet. He ignored her. Any second now he'd be dead so he might as well annoy the heck out of Mayhem while he got the chance. Mayhem took a step forward. Wayne held his ground. Roxanne tried to edge around Mayhem's shoulder. One of his guys reached out to grab her.

"Hey! Where do ya think you're going?" he barked, clamping down on her arm.

"Don't touch me!" She hissed, balling her fist. His head snapped to the side as her punch connected soundly with his jaw. It threw off his balance and he stepped on an untied shoe lace. He tripped and fell face-first onto the hard pavement. The sound of his nose breaking was like the crack of a whip.

Without so much as a glance, Roxanne stepped over him and placed herself between Mayhem and his prey. "Everyone just calm down. Don't want to ruin the show prematurely, right?"

"The show has already started, Roxie. Turn on the camera and get the microphone."

"But—"

"I won't tell you again." His voice was so frighteningly calm that Roxanne took a step back, alarm dancing in her eyes. She nodded, and while sparing another glance for Bernard, retrieved the microphone from the news van and powered up the camera.

" We're...live," she said.

Wayne could feel his bones rattling around inside his body. Every inch of him shook with terrifying anticipation, but not for himself. He had to get Janeen as far from here as possible. He took a step forward, closer to his doom, which was crazy. Why would anyone willing walk towards their own death? A little tug on his good hand and he glanced over his shoulder. Janeen was trying to pull him back, eyes wide, panicky.

_Where was Megamind?_

"I...it's gonna b-be okay," he said, failing miserably to duplicate Megamind's confident air.

"You've always sucked at lying, Wayne," she retorted.

Mayhem was speaking to the camera, Roxanne's microphone inches from his face. She wasn't looking at him. Her eyes couldn't seem to fix on any one thing. It made Wayne wonder if Megamind was waiting for the opportune moment to make a move. He never heard what Mayhem said. He was too busy trying to make Janeen run for it, but she wouldn't let go of his hand.

Before he could say anything—do anything, Mayhem's breath was in his face, white teeth gleaming like the fangs of a feral beast. This was it. How was it going to happen? Broken neck? Squashed brain? Mayhem's arm was raising, fingers outstretched. Wayne froze. Time crawled. He didn't feel any pain yet. Was he supposed to? Behind him, he heard a little gasp of alarm.

Any second now.

Any second now...

Dying was taking forever...

Any second...

Wayne blinked and glanced down his front. No blood. No pain. His organs hadn't been exposed to the air yet. If his pounding heart was any indication, then he was still living. Nothing had happened. His left hand flexed, but it felt weird. Empty. Janeen's hand was gone. Wayne blinked again and looked over his shoulder. She wasn't there. The realization stunned his brain, leaving him unable to comprehend why she wasn't there.

Janeen's tiny wrist was clasped in Mayhem's giant hand and he was dragging her away, a psychopathic grin hanging on his face. An arm crept around her waist. She flinched when his fingers glided through her hair, lifting a strand up to his nose.

"Such a waste," he murmured.

"Don't!" cried Wayne. He started forward, but Mayhem's crew rushed him, grabbing his shoulders to pull him back. Favoring his right hand, he fought with his left and even managed to wrench his arm loose, but they outnumbered him by five.

Mayhem angled towards the camera, giving whoever was watching on the other end a clear view. With a raised voice he said, "As part of your punishment, Wayne Scott, your girlfriend dies first."

"Leave her alone! It's me you want!" cried Wayne. "Kill me!"

"Oh, I will, but you haven't learned your lesson yet."

"Janeen doesn't have anything to do with this!" he yelled.

"She didn't until you plastered that big blue head all over TV challenging me to a death match. Brave, but really stupid. We all have to pay for our mistakes and you've made some doozies in the last couple of days."

Days?

Had it really been just a couple of days? Wayne thought he'd aged a decade in the last ten seconds. The rational part of his mind couldn't see past the look of bald terror on Janeen's face. He kept struggling even though it didn't do one bit of good. Behind the camera, Roxanne was trapped too. She couldn't reach Janeen either. George was twice her size, bending her arms behind her back.

_Where is Megamind?_

"Poor Janeen," said Mayhem, glancing down at the woman he held. She twisted this way and that, trying to get free. Anything she did was a wasted effort. It was impossible to escape. She was trapped.

...and it was _his _fault.

Roxanne didn't waste any time, reaching for something behind her back. The guy she'd punched was back on his feet. What was Roxanne doing? Wayne saw a flash of the dehydration gun before she was tackled from behind. The gun was knocked loose. It slid under the van. No one else noticed.

Wayne's chest heaved, his body shook. All at once he felt cold and hot. Janeen struggled, panic seeping into her eyes. Mayhem just laughed at her distress. The muscles of his arm flexed. And then she went horribly still, staring up at her captor with in shock. She pushed against his chest feebly as his arm constricted her around middle like a snake.

_He was crushing her..._

Janeen whimpered. Wayne snapped.

Rational thought flitted away with the wind. The blood coursed violently through his body until his heart beat so fast that he couldn't hear anything else except the wild rhythm in his brain. For the first time in his life, Wayne stopped thinking, stopped calculating. The disconnect between his mind and body was a strange feeling.

It didn't matter that his hand was broken. He couldn't feel any pain. There was too much adrenalin pumping through his body. He balled up a fist and struck. The guy holding his arm let go. An elbow to a gut here. A kick to a stomach there. He'd never punched anyone before, but suddenly, three guys were down. Mayhem's crew gave chase. His species, while not known for superior strength, were masters of agility. Wayne easily dodged each obstacle. He ducked under arms, leapt over heads.

Then he was moving, charging the behemoth. If he crashed into Mayhem, every bone in his body would shatter. But he couldn't stand there and let an innocent person die. Janeen didn't deserve this...any of it. He didn't wonder what he was going to do. He just had to stop him. Mayhem didn't see him, wasn't paying attention. He was too busy laughing at the woman he was hurting.

Wayne's legs ran faster than ever. Would this work?

He plowed into them both. It was like striking a steel wall. The sinews connecting each part of his body rippled as the force tore through him with a painful shockwave. The world blurred into solid white. All the nerves in his body were on fire, unable to cope with the overwhelming sensations. Even his teeth clacked. One broke clean in two. His body, too stunned to move, collapsed to the concrete, which felt soft compared to what he'd just slammed into.

But through it all, his mind never shut down. His thick skull was sturdy and thick, able to withstand incredible forces in order to protect his massive brain. From his place on the ground, he raised his head. He hadn't expected to free Janeen, much less hurt Mayhem. That was why his throbbing jaw dropped to the ground to see Mayhem looking just as shocked as he felt.

He'd actually taken a small step back. His arm slackened. Janeen pushed away from him, clutching her middle. She hurried over to Wayne, laying a cold hand over his forehead.

"Oh! Wayne…how did you…oh my goodness!"

"Janeen…" He took a big breath. "You okay?"

"I think so. My stomach hurts, but…you stopped him. Are you hurt?"

Laughter bubbled up. "Uh…yeah. Pretty sure I knocked the Earth off its axis."

Her lips quivered with a puny smile. "Your arm looks weird."

"Huh?" Wayne looked at his right arm. An experimental shrug made him gasp. "Yep. Dislocated shoulder. At least it'll match my hand."

"Oh, Wayne…" she whispered, stroking his forehead. "That was really stupid."

A shadow blocked the street lamp above their heads. "Yeah, Wayne. Really stupid."

He looked up at Mayhem's brutish frame. The ugliest expression yet was plastered across Mayhem's grotesque face. Janeen shrunk away. Wayne braced himself. This really would be the end now.

And then the lights went out. A familiar cackle put a big smile on Wayne's face.

"Ollo, Mayhem Man."

**A/N: So sorry this took so long, but it wasn't because of writer's block. I've been steadily carving away at it and this chapter by far, is the longest I've ever written. In fact, I could have gone on longer, but you've waited long enough. I decided to split it up because too much time has passed since my previous update. Chapter 21 is a setup to the action in 22. I'll preface this by saying that writing action is difficult because I can easily picture it in my head. Putting that action into words isn't easy and it feels like it drags, but I'm pretty much pleased with the end result. Thanks again for all of the lovely reviews. You guys are awesome! *fist pump* **

**It's so close to the end. *gasp* I might cry!**


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